Gonzo Looks Back

I dont imagine every story ends well. Or that every dream is met with sucsess. This is how i see mine ending.

At the time none of us thought much about it.

The old man said as he sat apon the bench his trade mark sunglasses no longer there

infact if not for knowing who he was there was little left of the man once called Gonzo.

 

It was a strange time and no matter how I try it stays with me like a dream you

never truley could understand the friends we made the laughs well there all but whipers on a  ghosts tongue now my friend.

 

He spoke on like a child recalling a favorite toy and for a moment whatever it was he had so long ago  showed through but as he got to the subject of it's end he faded

like a sunset apon the water.

 

Haunted by more than just thoughts or regrets.

Apon that park bench without movement he was travling down roads he knew would venture down the darkest part ofthe night to a place memories

did not heal but could drown a tortured soul.

 

Looking down into his weathred hands he was silent waiting for a line maybe.

the old act he so often did seemed all but a stranger to himself.

 

I was a cruel person often but in my madness was my fire.

And like a fire apon th wind it consumed everything within my path.

I wasted many chances and destroyed many friendships now Im existing in the

remains of my former self.

 

He poored the last contents of the flask into his coffee.

and looked out and almost beyond the water a mock king apon a

fools throne or maybe just a former jester now a bum apon a parks bench.

 

Speaking in awhiskey drenched voice looking off he spokewhatwould be his last parting words.

 

You have to ask yourself over time was the ride worth the cost?  

within a storm we dont  take time to choose without regret we only exist in

hopes to see another clear sky.

 

Ive scattred my regrets apon the winds.

And to thoose behind may they never reflect as I.

Life is but chapters and that chapter is worn in my life's book.

 

The old man left with that said moving slow but in thoose words a strength

still existed.

and as he paused to look back he saw there was no one apon the bench

at all.

 

regrets are ghosts and the past is but barbwire to the soul of the foolish.

 

The old man faded into the day.

As another man forged a path in a world none

can ever stay. 

Reviews

[Gone]

Very, very well laid out and constructed write amigo.Coming back at the end with the old man was a masterstroke, much as I love your crazy stuff your introspective works always touch my soul as they are always tinged with sadness and regret.Gonzo is a legend now,before and forever more.nuff said

[Chris Smith Welshpoetcs]

Another excellent write my brother poet.

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

Self looking in the mirror at self. Sometimes we are driving down the road and realize we have lost time and wonder how we got where we are and where we were during that "blank" time. Suddenly we awaken to the truth of how we got there and wonder if we had it to do all over again would we do it any differently......excellent write Gonzo my friend.

[Joel M Frye]

"...a mock king upon a fool's throne, or maybe just a former jester, now a bum..." Or perhaps an excellent bar-room poet, spitting out lines of life with whiskeyed breath. I know which I choose, Gonzo.

[Lily Mae]

Madness was my fire... I love that Gonzo.. So true for so many, but some never admit it. I think this is raw and intense and one of my favorites of yours.. Well penned my friend..xx