Out of Balance

There is something wrong with all of us,
I think. Even those of us who claim
themselves to always be so right.
We teeter, out of balance, on the brink
of blind destruction.

The night has fallen hard again.
I shall not lay me down to sleep.
For sleep abandoned me too long ago.
The tricks my mind has played on me
have made it all seem so.

And I find myself wishing I could
find a way to wipe the slate clean
and start all over again. For I know,
beyond the shadow of a doubt,
that there is nothing left that I can do
to make all this seem better.

Remembering so clearly, not so
many years ago - the way that hope
stole healing through my soul.
Ours are such very human failings,
even now. Walking all too proudly
in the wake of animals that never
cared to know our market stalls.

Strange, the way the rain distorts it,
pulling new perspectives from the sky.
We each take on a different image.
Blasted from this stone of flesh.
Where once our bleeding hearts
were opened up to intermesh.

Taken out of context, they convince
themselves our needs must be a lie.
Especially when the moon re-blooms
within a starlit sky. Understanding
nothing, we are made to stand
beneath the smallest telling of the tall.

Color-coded indiscretions
travel from afar and come
too near to quench this feeling
of their fear...

? Michaelette ?

4/26/2005
Copyright© 2005 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .