Resolutions from Cross-Legged Atop Reality Into the mirror I gawk and stare, eyes peer back tired – Lines cut deep from these twins, Exhausted pools of denim. Teeth yellowed-over, stained from neglect – Memories of coffee and coffee and coffee Allowed to collect revealing the life – The lives lived by this face. With quiet resolution I whisper the solution to the reflection, In shambles looking back at me. Grand plans often built-up with marble and gold – Soon downgrade to second-hand garage sale kitsch Being locked-up in closets for the moths and the mold. Scribbled list, like some scrap-paper constitution Is jotted-down to be followed and lived. Resolutions to fulfill and to achieve – Or stumble upon, landing face-first In the muddy ditches of self-disappointment And self-loathing. Perhaps this year, this list, this batch, This desperate column of half-hearted hopes At self-betterment may succeed. Perhaps.
Posted on: Thu, 01 Jan 2015 00:05:51 +0000
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