Words writing seasons in sentences. Today I might snow, tomorrow I’ll rain. Drops clank off railroads slowing my train...of thought. Ghosts of Christ missed past, don’t speak much. Clouds use to congregate where my feet touched and even then I was wishing to breathe love.
The antonym to cavalier, due to unclaimed years of treason. I’m the reason I can’t coexist with love. It eludes me, robbed and abused me. But that’s the price of doing business with something so pure. Now I’m on stage down here of world tour, when it rains it pours but a man in pain it showers. I blew kisses to second chances, but I died in an hour.
The thoughts of guilt still linger, it’s too much...too tall...maybe I’m just too small to notice the sincerity of my climb away from repeat offenders. The victims faces, I’ll always remember...
©cavali3r
C