hanging like vines from wooden rafters
blowing gently to and fro
whispering it's time to go
go I did when the time was right
slipping gracefully into the night
blinded by faith, deaf to reason
the sun was hot and I was freezin'
catering to your every whim
the prognosis very grim
trying to wait out months of rain
left me pallid and in much pain
you didn't think I'd every leave
that you had all the time you'd need
I surprised you after all
exiting just before last call
using my brain and not my heart
I should've used it from the start
the puppeteer that held the strings
wonders what tomorrow brings
thinking 'bout grace and God and such
pondering if he gave too much
writing songs about what was
with only one left to applaud
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
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