I’m a passenger in the middle seat of the floor

When they stomp, I shieked

When they prayed, I listened

When they cooked, I cleaned,

When they slept, I worked

When I listened, they talked,

When they caused a commotion, I paniced

And when I settled, I ran

Is there a way to end the hell? Is there a way to see forgiveness through? One time and one moment, each day, I see the light sometimes. don’t steal it. don’t take it away. I am losing faith in my ability to hold on to the thought, to the whisper, and the chime, and I’m losing a little grace each day. I know why, but I can’t seem to stop it, and this writing is verbal and clear, my namesake and ally, my friend and my foe, my alter ego.

Should the day come, when I see the light,

The second remorse, of today’s followed fright,

I pray that we find, a cure for the pain,

The devil inside, is always the same,

And so I relight, a candle or two,

And sorry don’t gut it,

You gotta get through.

One morning I wake, a dazed and aloof,

And once I looked back, I saw it bluetooth.

Why can’t we go back,

Through sorrow and fame,

When twine was my mercy,

I lost a game.

So maybe today,

at 4 after 10,

I’ll leave the door open,

And remind myself again –

That after the calm,

Calms a very big storm,

And merci will have it,

I have all the norm.

And that’s what I fear, more than anyone else.

A second or third, or fifth little dance.

Where is the time, slipping today,

Where is the fame, of a guy who did pray,

Where is the sound, of silence and morse,

Where is the human, inside me of course.

So when I get through, this life or the past,

I realize I sometimes, go way too damn fast.