Oh little man,
You land where you fall,
You really have no plan at all,
No sense of loss,
No fear of dying,
How brave you are,
So good at lying,
You felt that loss,
Like a severed leg,
You fear the unknown,
And the voice in you head,
And now…you are lame,
You limp,
Sometimes crawl,
You bleed everywhere,
You land where you fall
BLCostello©2025

"Sorry",
What is that for ME?
Your confession or apology?
It’s what YOU are,
Your finally exposed,
Your stated regret,
And what you owe,
thanks
BLCostello©2025

Pipe in hand,
I am alone,
For 23 years.
I have been ******,
Clueless and numb,
Still…I was “nice”,
In sickness and health,
I held you so tight,
And where did it take us?
You there,
I here,
Alone, together….for 23 years
Inhaling ssuccess,
Oh we had it all,
I still hear the vermin that scratch in the walls,
“Honey, is that YOU?”
The floor is still wet,
Your, “gonna fix it”
A promise unkept,
But I liked it a lot,
When you, “got the point”,
I still can’t roll my own joint,
And for 23 years…I bought your smoke
I never dreamed…I would give up hope
Give,
Give,
And still,
There is waste
It’s never enough!
My hope!
You just TAKE,
I am 58,
And it’s finally clear,
I was ****** for 23 years
BLCostello©2025

Exhausted from breathing,
He's still believing,
He has some place to be,
He just can’t focus,
And never noticed,
The way he used to be,
Sometimes he obsesses
But all too soon forgets
Before he had the oxygen,
He loved his cigarettes,
Smiling he remembers...
His walks to the corner store,
Before he got his scooter,
He does not walk no more,
Time just passed so quickly,
It’s harder to believe,
He should of took up jogging,
He’s only 63

Is tomorrow enough?
It has to be,
Today is almost gone you see,
Yet here I linger,
Alone at last,
My memories repeat the past,
The moon does rise,
Still I am inspired,
Embracing my muse,
Thou I am tired,
In the dark
I smoke,
I wait for the day
I will meet tomorrow….
Unafraid
©B L Costello 2016

He did what he should
He was just a kid,
That's what he learned,
That’s what he did,
Because it was “right”,
It must be good,
A black and white childhood,
But sometimes thing are not that way,
Black and white does blur to gray
That can never be annulled,
Points are lost when the tips get dull
And now he engages every man’s fight,
To do as he should,
Or to do what is right
©BL Costello 2018

“Hurry, come in”
he said at the door,
The Jehovah witness never heard that before,
Anxious to carry on “God’s plan”,
He never noticed the blood on his hands,
Not till he notice the drops on the floor,
How this would go,
No one was sure,
“Okay”,
Said his host,
“I don’t believe...that God is here...... or he loves me”
The witness nodded,
"I understand...May I go and wash my hands”?,
“No, not the bathroom…….”
“The kitchen, please...That room, really embarrasses me”,
The witness said,
"I'm embarrassed too, I don’t know if he loves me or you"!
The host replied “Do You know…..what I've done”
Are you judging me?
Are you having fun?"
“No, I am too selfish”
The witness confessed,
“I don’t really care about your mess,
"I can still hear her cry..."
"I tore her dress..."
"But she had such a pretty mouth,"
"No, you should never judge....
Or let strangers into your house”
©B L Costello 2019