Locked behind walls of contracted muscle
a thousand wounds of insincerity did take root, and there
denied the light of day, consumed my heart with briar and with thorn.

These injustices, hidden from myself by myself
did find fertile ground in which to set root and flourish grotesquely
dulling my eyes, strangling my voice, and poisoning my wings.

Left unchecked, I dare not think on
the damage that might have been
were I not found by one so true.

With hands upon my chest and lips upon my breast
you did rescue
countless songs from remaining unsung
days from rotting on the vine
prayers from going unanswered,
having been whispered on deaf ears.

Finally released and exposed to my naked retrospection
these thoughts shake my practiced posture
and unsettle an already weary mind
as they search for release.

Have faith and take pride in your efforts,
for as I wait for the flood to run itself dry-
thanks to you
I have finally wittnessed
the long awaited promise of better days to come.

02/23/2004

Author's Note: "Well, the first days are the hardest days, don't you worry anymore, for when life looks like easy street - there is danger at your door." -Grateful Dead, 'Uncle John's Band'

Posted on 02/24/2004
Copyright © 2024 A.M. Demarco