Often in my lucid moments
when I'm lying
in bed and deep in thought,
I question
the irrationality of my actions
Like a gambling addict who claims,
"I will throw in the towel after this round",
I never do.
And the casino,
sensing my forlornness,
hands me a new stack of chips at the exit
lures me back to a new game
Certainly it is not the acrylic's fault.
I am buying hope with my time
I'm burning the wick on my head
I'm living on the words in a book
But maybe when I finally win a game,
and I bring the chips to the counter
only to get paper in return
Then the full magnitude
of my foolishness shall
befall me.
Awake, await
Bury the dead and marry life
The Lord is my gold.
-
I don't know better but I pray He does.
