Lawrence S. Pertillar Poems

I have admitted my wrongs.
To correct mistakes made.
With the hope to recognize them,
Not to again repeat.
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Once abstracted to derail truth,
And facts to keep off track...
To leave many absent-minded,
With preoccupied self centered wishes.
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You will never take from me my hope.
Or a faith I keep within me believed.
You will never take from me my hope.
Or find me moping with emotions in grief.
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Camouflaged and taught,
Not to quack or waddle.
But stride with a swagger,
To disguise the fact...
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Why do you have those bruises,
All over your face?

'I am taking boxing lessons.
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The art of correctness,
To leave zero defects...
Not suspected or detected,
By another.
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The eleventh hour,
Loudly...
Begins to tick.
Yet...
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The reality lived,
That those who awaken each day...
To first express a thankfulness,
For being aware they are blessed is...
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One step made to move forward,
And away from a known quicksand...
Is the best advice one can give to another,
Who believes sinking into a pit with others...
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The tested...
Fed on greed,
And the taste of its decreasing quality.
Can no longer define what value means.
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