After searching long and hard, I conclude,
I have no Riverman, whispering words
of encouragement or dread, fear or love.
The day was perfect, I had everything!
Yet I was stood up, he had sailed on past.
To a place more deserving of his light,
where people suffer and beg for his help,
where tortured souls were given name badges
and made to march in twisted parades.
He will do much good for the people there.
He will play them songs and tell them stories,
he will hold them up and keep them walking,
and he'll show them how to express themselves.

At times I'm sure that I could use his help.
Other times, I am a walking cliche,
alone and uninspired at all times.
For I was raised, not in a broken home
but in a home filled up with resentment,
but even then I didn't qualify
for that long list of damaged goods that is
the Rivermans black book of creators.
Perhaps it's because I try hard at life,
but evidently not quite hard enough.

I know he's there, and for me that's enough.
If I can I'll catch him on the way back...

12/03/2007

Posted on 12/03/2007
Copyright © 2024 Danny Washington