In the end

I have not written in quite a while. Thank you for still reading.

Of desert sun shining on

the olive skinned boy of the sand

to grow and build a life of gold

some say he found the promised land

its all in my mind I confide in you

those close you know this is true

I may live in a manor with four white pillars and the beach out my bay window

but in the seals of each room is an empty thought so much space as if I was a widow

I am still withdrawn still a loner even with a loving partner in the next room

and it is still a covid alert around us and now russia began new doom

The boy who became a man or so it maybe believed

I have done what I desired and still feel I am not relieved 

make more music make more stage productions or I could just wither away

because my body is just as withdrawn as my mind

even this poem is lacking its say

I want to understand 

want to learn how exactly we could survive

but in those dark corners of this mind

I feel some need to just die

Awful I know 

So cruel and yet I find sense

because Anarchy is fair

so wtf is the rest?

Reviews

[Red Brick Keshner]

Unfair? Having dabbled in the tenets of anarchy for a brief period at university, the answers to which gradually coalesced in the ensuing years of living in the real world after graduation. Wow. We are like a dee caught in the beam of headlights in the dark of night. Powerful read. Be safe, brother.