I just watched the second hand
cross the midnight hour,
we’ve entered morning now,
I’m awake,
I haven’t any idea how to sleep
with all that is happening
inside my mind,
piano solos in the background
help me find some peace
maybe a reflection of some kind.
I have a soft heart
easily bruised
I will bleed red
only internalized
so the affect I show my days
cannot be easily tied
to the ache inside
so an onlooker can be swayed
by the smile
that false pretense carries me
well through a weekend
of loneliness.
I remember one time
saying to someone I loved,
that I no longer felt lonely,
if I could look in her eyes,
and know she would search my own,
together we
found this lovely road,
yet,
neither one of us
wanted to admit out loud,
the road could only
run a certain path.
Now its late for you to read this,
perhaps you might feel
the same, idle eyes, hours of time
wondering what is next
wishing there might be
some solace inside
a torturous bit of self-doubt,
the ticket to finding our own
eternal path.
I spoke with someone tonight,
who talked about waiting
even when they knew themselves
the days, they would
turn beyond the hours,
hair turning gray to some attractive white,
bodies breaking down
yet heart and soul
alive …
a youthful integrity
of child in love.
I would sit all my night in silence
then smile for a word from her lips.
© Scott F Savage 2019
