Grace is full of knots
Ring it out, son
To find blood-splatter
Plenty here to forewarn
A man was drowning in despair
It’s like a self-fulfilling prophesy
That no one could do anything about
To save a musically-gifted soul
From his traumas
Drawing in the surrounding darkness
And forming a noose
For the reset was a drug too tempting to resist
And he was an addict of a sort
All his tragically short life
Monthly Archives: July 2017
Closed Eyes
I saw shadows gather
Behind closed eyes
They formed your image
Then headed yet closer
Entering my mind’s eye
Imprinting yourself in my corneas
That I now see each time
I close my eyes.