#624 On Being Your Jiminy Cricket

Am I your Jiminy Cricket
The voice of your frail, dimmed conscience?
The one you turn to
When you need the strength
To be the person
You’ve always known you ought to be?

Or am I just another member of
Your sprawling audience?
An unwitting witness to your witless schemes
The unremitting pursuit of
Your faded dreams?

#623 On Walking Away From The Maimed

Just watch me walking away
Riding off into my own private sunset
Alone, but unhurt

I sought my own refuge
From your games
And here I am
Intact and ungrateful
- or so you would say

I refuse to be one of the maimed
And those who have remained
They will bear their own scars, in time

Goodbye.
I have no more tears left to cry.

#615 On My Wild and Truant Mind

My wild and truant mind repels discipline
And ranges far and wide in unsought streams
With boldness and curious disposition
To bask with joy in fresh and novel dreams
I revel in intrepid transgressions
And march through life with serene procession.

#610 On My Blasted Eyes

Did you ever suspect that we would find each
Other? Through the thickets of false friendships
and brambles of failed encounters, He was leading
Me to you: I was down on my knees, bleeding. Teach
Me to love you wholly, I said. My hands and hips
And blasted eyes are yours, yours for the healing.