Smoke hazed glow
of neon lights
mask
the tears that fall
like rain
but not the face, that
bleak,
looks on the world
in pain.

I can’t find love
in this bottle
nor even beauty
for an evening
in the silvered glass.

But, here in this place
full of people,
music, and fun…
the darkness of
despair
found in the heart
of the guilty
is made complete.

I try to hide from
fault
but undeserved attention
though more than earned
makes
guilty
fools
of the lonely!

Tear up the night
mix with pieces
of the day,
fragments of laughter,
and shreds of conversation.

A guilty conscience
wields mental fists
to bruise my
self,
and bolts of lightning
(longing)
blast my heart.
Yet even thunderous
storm cloud brows
cover not the eyes
that glow with
desire!

Even a guilty conscience
can be convinced
to hush for a few
moments of pleasure…
but when the solitude
is renewed,
nothing but shame
remains!