Niagara River
My inner voice weeps
As this pen has ran out of ink
Leaving thoughts to swirl then sink
Beneath the churning surface in a blink
Making us an impossibility to hold and think
Leaving behind the memories to cherish and keep
The deception lies
In the stories left untold
Loose ends just dangling
Fit to be tied, yet denied
Silently strangled in time
I detest, yet I must confess
There’s still a few good men around
Ready, willing and able
To help out
A damsel in distress
An old hag in duress
One in the same
Violently engaged
In a parking lot – folly
Cursing (under breath)
Tugging (hem of dress)
Kicking (tires bent)
Not one, but two men
Stepped out of the crowd
Made me proud
As they carried it around
Calmed me down
Helped
Me
Out
When freaking out
He thinks she’s earned it
I question if she’s worthy
Here from the surface
I’m still learning to accept
Nobody’s perfect, like me
The scent of summer
Blooms a heavenly perfume
Under watchful eyes
As she climbs upon the vine
Seduced by the moon, thriving
When I pull away
Let go and leave you alone
You bring me back home
As if you already know
How we strengthen and then grow
Sometimes, I look back
At all of the crap written
Then have a good laugh
