Crayons

In the end, I love you
But to the end, I prefer 
To turn to the headwind 
Of the futuristic shores

To the icon hanging on my wall
Pray to him that he keeps me 
Safe from the trouble and pain
That i know will do me in anyway

Don’t say I didn’t try 
But remember 
God does not intervene
God owes my petty soul
Nobody owns me

Im not really worried
If I turn the sky to lavender
And carve angels of stone
With violent baby crayons

Im tired 
And i have 
A repertoire 
And inventory.

Reviews

[Michael (Letters and Li..]

Cool poem. The imagery and phrasing was outstanding, especially in the fourth stanza. Thank you for sharing, my friend.