I am starting to think I don't make mistakes
And rather, mistakes make me.
His favorite play is "Something rotten,"
His favorite woman is someone rotten,
Spoiled with the love she doesn't deserve.
Her hair ran past her back as a child,
But as time grew shorter and shorter,
So did her brown curly locks.
Her mother bestowed them upon her,
Among other things, she tried to cut short.
"Look at the moon," he says,
As he drives us home
I hope I'm your right hand woman
Like you are the wind beneath my wings.
I am always making mistakes,
They follow me around,
closer than my shadow-
From spilled beer to spilled guts
I wish sometimes I kept it to myself.
I am always making new passageways
Through the love you keep around,
Give me your miles, I take lightyears
And still you hold me at night without doubts that
July 20th, 2020
Will be the day my mistakes
Have all lead to a life of what love was made to be.