|
He tells me
He’s finally at peace with himself
And no
He didn’t find Jesus
He tells me
Every day has its own meaning
How every day is a blessing
He’s happy with his friends
And his job
And his music
Everything is working out just fine
He wonders why I’m not
On the same page
As him
He tells me that I
Could be if I’d just get rid of my
Dour outlook
If I would just let go of my
Cynicism
I could walk in the light
Like him
I think for a moment
Mulling over all the shitty comebacks
I could come up with
And finally say
“I won’t preach to you about your
Delusional blissful wonderment
If you don’t begrudge me of my blues”
I wasn’t sure if I’d said it right
He looked at me as if
He’d just realized
I’d stepped in something smelly
We’d both had a few
He opened his mouth
“Seriously man
If you’d just let go of
Your hang-dog expression
You wouldn’t have to let anyone
Know you were blue on the inside…”
I thought about how much I’ve toned down
What the public sees versus
What I’m thinking
And wondered if I could
Go any lower
Maybe this was the bliss that Boris
Referred to
I wondered who had visited him
In the dead of night
Wondered further
Which eye they had
Inserted the ice pick
To scramble his brains
When I left him
He was happily tapping his foot
To the music
A contented smile
Resting on his face
Like a sliver of moon
In an autumn sky
copyright 2006
Raindog |
