Fantasize of how you ran, that race of life till now?
Did it paint a living portraiture or pen a filthy scowl?
Did it fill the missing questions asked... or run askance at will,
Did it lead you to utopia or make you grind uphill?
Those conversations held in depth, did they take your breath away
Or leave you mired neck deep in doubt, to seek another... pray?
How so, your stance on God's retreat on where to base belief
Or does it conjure images to seek some hand relief?
How goes it with your silly plan, to take her far away
To resurrect from drudgery, such dullness, day to day?
What was it that you said, back then, when we were young and fit
That marriage to that sultry ***** would leave you in the ****?
How so, your stance on God's retreat on where to base belief?
It definitely conjures images requiring hand relief!
Now were so many spent in sin the Devil couldn't count
Or lengthwise lost to penury wherein he should surmount?
Who so, How so, Why so, Where; Questions forged to seek
The answers to my queries now avoided, somewhere bleak?
Pretentiously avoided though, perhaps, you couldn't say.
Explain now, how your life race ran.... I think you ran away.

M.
Foxglove, Taranaki NZ
25 March 2020