Hope may spring eternal,
But I’m stuck in the desert,
Tapped of anything resembling a promise,
Of a tomorrow.
So where can I head,
That might deliver me an answer,
To my axiomatic thirst,
For satisfaction in the form of liquid courage?
You won’t answer,
( you never answer)
Yet I still voice my concerns,
In the form of pithy jokes,
Lingering in silence,
Absent of laughter,
Because I’m stuck on this road alone.
You didn’t abandon me,
When I left you to fend for yourself,
Against the shadows of my former selves,
Even though you aren’t here,
To hear my apology,
Visceral and borrowed,
From a more penitent person,
Than I will ever find the hope to be.