loss. The gain.
The joy. The pain.
The sweetest sigh
embalmed within a high.
Nesting in the other land.
Sifting through the endless strands
of life too unaware of its emotion.
Walking in a trance they name devotion.
Defecating in the sacristy.
Dishonoring the meaning
of their growing unity.
Deep and dark, the horror showing.
Played upon big screens still glowing
with a manufactured sort of light.
Where natural begins to seem too bright.
And all that's real within the feel is lost.
Playing out their lives upon a cross.
Screaming out to father, oh the cost.
He that never cared to listen.
Isolated from existence.
Too proud to make amends.
Wishing for his life to end.
The loss. The gain.
Joy turning into pain.
His manhood offered up
and so we sup on nothing much -
just his remains...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2005 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .