NOT MURMURS, NOR RUMORS

The phone rang…
A call from the past,
And he knew a storm
Was building…

Light fading as he
Clung to the facts…
Far out…no longer
On a limb…just a twig
To support him now,
He sought to find
Some kind of meaning…
How he came to be lost

It’s not another
He must forgive…
Not another with whom
He must make peace…
He hurt himself,
Not speaking in
His own behalf,
In self-defense…

As so often is true,
The color green was a
Big part of the story…
Greed ascendant and
Trust all but totally lost…
Can he ever get it back?
More to the point…
Why would he want to?
Things change over time,
But that never did…

WORD BANK
PHONE / PAST / STORM / TWIG / LIGHT / GREEN

WRITING REBELS.jpg

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2 comments

  1. bbeyes4 · August 4, 2016

    This is really good Robert! I really like this❤️

    Liked by 1 person

    • artifiswords · August 4, 2016

      Thank you, Suzanne. A touch of psychology and a large dose of reality. Why not to go along to get along.

      Liked by 1 person

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