falling into despair as the inundation continues
every turn finds me staring into another memory
of you
motherless child staring into the void
seeking to be comforted and held
by arms free from judgment  or need
close to the source
of my existence –
hidden in the background sits a vision
future life placed in hazy quarters
glasses and compounds give no relief
as the reality is locked from me
cleverly stashed between morality and righteousness
the grail pail sails the trail of failings
settling gently in the obscene and tarnished
oxidized
rusted
worn
shabby remnants brushed by archeologists
collect dust on a shelf in the home of the long dead curator –
fading into obscurity my youth looks back
cracked mirror inferiorly reports the passing of time
lines etched along the horizon
crow’s feet menagerie –
passion passes for persuasion
and the rotted fruit holds tight
blindly winding, finding lined rhymes
pining for the time shinning on the vine
let’s look behind the sign to the minds grinder  
and just try to be whole –