Rain did fall. Gods did call. So gears did I shift...
Eyes looked through yellow glass, at red letters, three...
Each flashing with the promise of forgotten pain, to come...
Some look for fulfilment in a book. Some in a tree. Here for me...
Fingers tips ache from the cold, as they did stick out from leather covered
hands that clutched handle bars as tight As I did that night.
Dressed was I, in black. Rag on my head of red, adorned with snowmen.
A gift from the three who mean the world to me.
Silence only broken by the cries from unseen crows. As my ass sat
perched, upon that cold leather seat,
Chaps soaked, Heart broke.
Keats rumbled under me, low and steady, like
Vulcans hammer blows...
In truth it was being alone that gave me fright...
Never would I admit in the light.
Iron Horses backed in; pecking order kept.
Hollow hearts, hiding pain with shallow friends for a few hours of noise,
and beers.
Same ole folks; same ole fears...
To the Door I headed...each step dreading... Knowing better...
My footsteps echo on the rain slicked empty street; like the memories in my head.
Splashing in a heartbroke rhythm. Houston winds did blow...
However no snow...
Christmas. Alone. I should be in bed. Enough said...
Sappiness, I am not really prone; but, boys gone.
Heart filled with hate,
at Hallmark telling me how to feel, and what to say. How to buy...
Bro.s would not understand statements of such weakness. Not out loud, anyway.
I understand not, the debits occurred in Christ name.
Jesus or Osiris? Isis or Mary? Madonna black or not... Matters not I
guess in times of loneliness...
Door opens, music blares, smoke floats... Now, I can show no cares...
A bar fight, such a welcome...for me?... Honouring Mars are they?...
Others, now in pain, all in the name of a season...
Fist clenched, new scars are born...
Still no one here is happy... Peace to whom? Where tiny Tim now?
A drink ordered... Self Pity the drink of the Day...
Ying and Yang fought for possession of my soul; as the whiskey sank...
Room filled with whispers and screams...
Broke homes and abandoned dreams...
Shame hides in the darkness, whispering lies into empty Souls...
So we drank... Tonight we were all bound.
Blues did play, aloud from a flashy box...
Zorro, the fox, danced across a screen with no sound...
Words did I write, as this whore tells me her life bites...
Her pride, and that which gift her Mama did first give her,
she would trade for a line.
Her Love for some attention. So Yule was for her, this night...
Did Christians in Churches of Pretty Glass, ever pray for her?
Here I sat. My choice. My Karma. My right? My dogma, too?
Now, not knowing how to end, or where to send...
A thought occurred, to share my pain, my shame...
Power it possessed, would then be gone, so this simple spell I do cast...
Thank you... Your reading ease the load...