The Back Of The Book Poem by J.M Berger

I said I was sorry. I said I’d never do it again. It only got worse. Some saint I am. Sorry, big man. It’s not the first time I’ve failed. And I feel terrible but confident. Can the two coincide? Aging in silence, cacophony on the inside. Long ago I realized, if a parallel eternity is what it would take to rescue me, then great sakes, I’d have bartered my faith for it. But today for the first time I know… Somewhere out there is the love of my life. Somewhere out there is me, riding a bike, face pressed against the wind, eyes intense. Still a failure, but with every great mistake a small success. Maybe I am ugly but at least I can make you laugh. You may not trust my methods, but… even the Lord has doubters. And today I make you angrier than ever? You want to see passion, look into these eyes as I ramble away. A voice is a gift. A face is a gift. Nimble hands- and lithe minds- gifts. Is love a gift or a reward? And would you feel differently either way? Lucidity… is an afterthought.