Only a fool
could believe
there was nothing
waiting on me
on the other side
of all of this.

It could
be riches or
could be death.

Or maybe even a brown
haired beauty
with amber eyes
and blood red lips.
A touch so gentle
the cracks on these prison
walls began to weep
at her touch.

A fresh bottle already opened
next to a clean glass
already filled.
With an ice cube afloat
that has melted just enough
to chill the sting.

Or a pistol locked
and loaded with
malice and
****** left in its
wake.

A friendship yet to
be formed or a
lonely bar keep with
a half truth tale
to tell.

A moment of calm to be felt
at the sight of the
theater that is
the sky and the
sea at sunset.

I'd be lying only
to myself if I thought
there was nothing beyond these
deadened hours
and wasted days.
Nothing waiting as patiently
as a poor man in a well fare
line,for me.

It could be anything
or anyone of those things.
Or it could be death in the form
of a ****** fix,
a vengeful enemy who's
had too much to
drink and too many
rounds for him to miss.

A drunk out for a
Sunday drive,
or a strong enough
wind that felt
the need to fall an
ancient oak
right on top of me.