There is precious little to brandish

Forging my way

Through these twilight years.

A couple of hours in a daze,

A day off, covered in haze.

A cliff edge path on which to sleep walk

Towards the snow hollow of myself.

I need some final awakening,

Some super set of problems

To sort me on my way,

To get me some where closer,

Nearer to heaven.

I have fallen short

Throughout my life,

Never venturing far

From my mothers kindling.

She lit my fire.

I doused her flames

With my faults and my graze.

Skin tough I fell through her arms

And landed not quite level headed.

And today like any other

Is spent.

Like I am

Like me who never thought

Of consequence.

©️2019 Christopher Thompson

All rights reserved ✍️

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.