A Line in the Sand

A Poem by roubique

Something to soften the blow when I started telling my dad about my life.

i sold my soul for $4.99 to the stranger across the street.
he put it in a brown paper bag
sensing i wanted to be discreet.

i grasped it tight and held it close, eyes darting wildly around to see
if anyone was going to watch
as i became a shell of what had been me.

the man on the curb nodded hello, a knowing look shown through his eyes
it was then that i had to sit down
and on a vagabond's shoulder i cried .

how did i get here? where was the line? how did i cross without knowing?
and why did no one notice the fall?
did a smile really hide the self-loathing?

realization set in and i took notice, of who was by my side.
he was the other in the parable:
"if not for me; there go I"

the line that used to keep us apart, had completely been erased.
to everyone else we were the same
we belonged in this filthy dark place.

with a flash of light i saw the life, that would become my own
living each day to buy a bottle
calling only an island home.

it wasn't the song line i had planned to live, when picturing what my future held.
i wasn't ready to relinquish my life
or admit that i had failed.

with a sharp inhale i looked around, shared a look with my unlikely new friend
i handed him the brown paper bag
"this isn't how its supposed to end."

his smile was quick, but i could see, he knew that i was right.
i had succumbed to blinding fear
and confused failure with fright.

Overseas Highway. i drove away. i left paradise looming behind.
fleeting thoughts and endless questions
saturating my mind.

i found the line that day down south, sitting on a curb in key west.
and now each drink I want to take
becomes a personal test.

i learned the difference in want and need and know i have a choice.
and when i start to cross the line
my conscience has a vagabond's voice.