Difficult it is
to remember a tangent
of loss, misperception,
so many calls,
queries,
curious to know the truth.
Yet, now tonight a sentimental
tragedy,
the exposure of a litany
of lost promise,
crying ceremony,
trying only to withstand the
party line,
those who know the patterns
that exist
between weird and outwardly sane.
Or was it a phone call
contained everything in the fear,
the revisit, a premonition
someone once called it when thinking it was
their own.
Now wait a minute please …
Might wish as all the sides topple
the underneath, a setting
on display
viewed by eyes,
the saga would continue
as humanity marches on,
the tip of my tongue,
such is a close moment when forsaken tears
would rear themselves
with a quiet
knowledge.
The acceptance of the blues
commonly used term to veil the underlying
manifest of evil.
A solace within the silence.
Satisfy my method toward
sacrificing the prompt.
Isn’t the point of seeking method
the greatest albatross
toward any venture needing risk
to strong-arm the point into being our
new path.
This is one of those –
that moment.
© Scott F Savage 9/2021
apersonaljourney - stories of love 