41

By John Patrick Robbins

It stands as it is.
We will all know it someday and now it faces me down.
Every line is now more polished the truths are far to real and the scars are deep and many.

The numbness never does last the magic is gone and now I try in vain to cling to something I cannot believe myself.
Most avoid a sinking ship will you also?

I will play it out softly and allow it to seem as art and pretend the truths are all my own creation .
Paint that sunset and make it appear as something other than tragic .

I am empty now and I have nothing more to give.
But feel free to survey the wreckage of what was once my life.
A empty vacant home that we question whatever became of those who once lived here?

Sometimes a mystery is far better than the truth.

I pen this as time runs short yet no tears can be shed over spent dreams and shared delusions.

I’m beyond tired and my final rest echoes in the nights chilled embrace as lovers find comfort in one another.

If you ever have a choice.

Take any road  but the one I have chosen my friends.

And a goodnight was always a well intended goodbye.

And for a second that page does seem to hold a tear.
Until the next turn sets us free.

John Patrick Robbins is often referred to as a outlaw poet who’s work has been published with Romingos Porch , Red Fez, Piker Press, Blognostics, Horror Sleaze Trash , The Rye Whiskey Review , Outlaw Poetry Network, Inbetween Hangovers , Your One Phone Call, Blue Pepper, Boned Magazine, The Dope Fiend Daily, Spill The Words , Synchronized Chaos. His work is always unfiltered .