My Heart’s Choice

Sometimes your friends are not.

They ride your weaknesses

hoping they can beat you

like a plowshare beats a clod of dirt.

I know.  My friends have farmed me dry

My field is full of breathless lungs,

a bruised ego folds like dragonfly wings.

This barren life is all that’s left.

Should I simply bury myself,

dream my way into oblivion?

Or should I wait for the body to

make its own decision?

Hush.  I will wait.

2 comments

  1. MG WELLS · November 10, 2018

    Thanks for sharing, Stan. I love your work. Enjoy the day.

    Like

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