Ace Of Black Hearts
Homa Lousiana
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Simply Lost

Rating: 5.0
One eye always open.
So hard to sleep, trying so hard not to drown in the very deep.
Catching another frog just as it leaps.
The perfect timing, the perfect moment.
As if there could be such place.
The sacrifice for another escape.
Just got to get away.
Even when I'm here.
The background is always different.
Blue on black.
The tiny pinch of a thumb tack.
Pain so slight but it's endurance makes it so much more of a bite.
Out of the darkness, into the light.
But only if it's right.
Decisions to be made.
A clown marching down the street like he's in a parade.
A road with no sense of direction.
Bending into circles like that's its one and only true purpose.
Do I really deserve this.
Questing for a reason to carry on.
A brand that is burned on in.
Can't shake it, but that's not me.
Dirty done deeds.
The property haunted with my past demons.
So much I like, so much I hate.
The slow ride I take.
Bumpy and burly all the same.
The face without a name.
The complaint that knows no shame.
Gone is my heart, with one sip of this champagne.
Dodging bullets in the rain.
Hobbled by the swinging of change.
Have mercy be, don't you see.
Because I am so weak, so off balance.
By a summer time thumbnail of a moon.
Floating away inside a yellow smiley face balloon.
Gun ho, as a stranger in renown saloon.
Being thought of as just another goon.
But there is so much more for apperances sake.
And everytime that tassel breaks.
It's a rake upon skin coming from within.
A forth coming judgement from a friend.
So good at playing pretend.
A concurrent dream to the very end.
A future written down with fat unsharpened crayons on a white napkin from a unheard of mom and pop restaurant.
Just another hole in the wall.
Easily missed.
But food is both home made and divine.
With a touch from the godly kind.
Doing the shuffle, the daily hustle.
Burning down bridges
Formulating planned stitches.
What is it exactly I missing?
Reminiscing with past, present, and future all at the same time.
Feeding the seedlings and hoping they really grow.
How they will turn out god only knows.
A battle with a thorn rose.
Stick, stuck, and the wounds won't close.
Plenty of blood, fresh gloves to dispose.
A hose to clean, but no water coming out.
In search a facet to turn.
But there just isn't one.
Trying so hard to be part of this earth.
Digging around in the dirt.
Clothes needs washed.
Another daily choir.
None of which can be truly enjoyed.
Trying so hard not be the one everyone is trying avoid.
Ship traveled tried and true.
Thoughts stuck in the smell of super glue.
A paper written way before it will ever be due.
A promise from the confused.
I don't have a clue, or even know how to play.
The game that challenges my brain.
Also keeps me from going insane.
No innocence in the onlookers perception.
But its not a full pitcher..
Still I pour till it's gone.
In the hopes it gives me a different view.
Even if it's only temporary.
A spec on a very short time line.
In love and in life.
Creating my own price.
Reasonably compassionate.
Believing in illusion of always trying to be nice.
Hoping it is returned and repeated.
But accepting that it most likely won't.
Skipping a stone, and counting the sheep.
This is my retreat, so please understand if you are aren't welcomed.
This is my space and you are the invaders.
Putting on another pair of waders.
Protecting that small shelter.
A leaking roof letting all the water in.
So once again, I start from scratch and try to begin.
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4/17/2021 3:15:42 AM # 1.0.0.559