Off the cuff, with emotions locked.
A dead-end street to which I only see defeat.
Many ask…many greater and wiser than I.
‘When will the sadness end?’
To which, there has never been an absolute reply.
In the dainty house.
Down off the gravelled road.
Not a word of…
love as though it means something to someone…
give as though it requires no reward.
Be…when others have broken your heart’s sword.
With every attempt to cast away doubt.
With all the moments I have felt inside out.
With this picture perfect home…
At last, I must go it alone.
I can confide that the insanity has left the well dry.
The calls to a wedding for young love.
The rants and raves of doors that will not close.
The mysterious lack of sedation that hangs from collages on a logged wall.
Little house down the road.
Impeccable with country-style.
Alit to the eaves by autumn leaves.
Do not second judge.
The road ahead is meant for only me.