Petits XIII

one day you’re going to catch on

step back and pause

and know your inkling was right all along

***

tainted i agree

and stained indelibly 

as much as i do

to out its residue

it bleeds it bleeds

it seeps into my very being

***

don’t believe in me

i’ll only let you down

don’t profess your trust

i’ll fall prey to suspicious thoughts

don’t hold out your hand

i just may brush it away

don’t uphold me in any way

i just might drag you down with me

 

 

tarnished

Is it Age which has tarnished this man?

loosened his tongue?
lessened his morals?
degraded his respect?
diminished his kindness?

Has wear and tear and time done its deed?

No….only that irrepressible bitterness of life
and its thorny, barren path.

Do i hate this one now?

No, not hate…after all that has gone by…

struggled and survived.

No, not hate…no, not a lot…just a little.

Ungratefulness is a nettle-laden venom
inflaming all those who are no less weaker than you.

see how selfish one is to remember:

only his errors, his faults

his stumblings-grumblings-bumblings

his wandering and oft lost thoughts…

see how my finger points…how my words sting,

even when inside i am only hurt because
i let the finger point and the words sting…