February 25, 2018

 

I’m in one of my moods
it’ll pass, I think,
I’ve only been here five
or ten or twenty or forty
years

it’s nothing serious
just makes me see rain drops
slide along a frozen window
on a day so bright
you want to scream God’s name
but can’t
because the rain
it’ll quench your flame
before it has a chance to burn

it’s nothing serious
just makes me hear thunder
in a room filled by silent voices
from those who love you so much
you can’t understand their claws
bur you feel the red leave you on them
and still you cry out God’s name
“surely things are better than this”
you say
wondering all the while if things are
better than this

now

in front of the trumpet