I spent awhile
In a honey-barbeque
Chicken salad of
Cynicism.
And then one day
Instead of Frank
I was no longer Bryan
But a better version of my Mondays.
Or was it the
Lesser form a
Thursday takes
When you're alone?
I have a desire
Shaded in the glow
Of a stained glass
Display an hour away.
A wish, shrouded in
These filmy layers
Of forgotten words
And remembered sayings.
To be half of one
And twice of me
So I stopped seeing stars
And dropped the peace-sign for a dash.
Reinvented myself
To break all molds
And here I stand, slightly
More intact, I'm back.
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 4:51 PM UTC
I spent awhile
In a honey-barbeque
Chicken salad of
Cynicism.
And then one day
Instead of Frank
I was no longer Bryan
But a better version of my Mondays.
Or was it the
Lesser form a
Thursday takes
When you're alone?
I have a desire
Shaded in the glow
Of a stained glass
Display an hour away.
A wish, shrouded in
These filmy layers
Of forgotten words
And remembered sayings.
To be half of one
And twice of me
So I stopped seeing stars
And dropped the peace-sign for a dash.
Reinvented myself
To break all molds
And here I stand, slightly
More intact, I'm back.
Copyright 5/7/15 by B. E. McComb