by | Jul 7, 2005 | Poetically Correct

I forgot to remember

You stole me a buy

To tell you the truth

They sold you a lie

I’m eighty-years young

Not a fool goes gray

I see black on white

Your night is my day

Your soul is imprisoned

You don’t think for yourself

Cause you’re wearing a leash

With your brain on the shelf

When you chose to borrow

Be the victim of a lender

Why should it surprise you

The Receiver is the Sender

Of every transgression

Blamed on the other side

While you stand on your hill

You’re as low as your pride

If you think I’m inverting

The surreal-estate story

Tell me where in the cemetery

Are the riches and glory?

Headstones mark the same

You can’t revoke what you said

While alive in your death

Why’d you consider me dead?

Now I’m alone but for God

No more lonely than before

Stuck in this wheelchair

Watching the door.

Ciera S. Louise c. July 07, 2005