Deep Down

Deep down you know
How it should have ended,

There were piccolos playing,
A whispered song of eloquence
Wafting like the new
Terms of endearment

And a newly served drink,
Fresh with umbrellas and guidance.

Yet it’s back to the early days,
All guessing games and sketch books,
Diaries and chess,

Your wishing position
All eyes high and night skies,
Never revealing.

I can smell you on my skin
And this is it where it ends
Not begins,

A shadowed conclusion
Of an old boring story
That stayed clear of hope,

The joke,
Repetition,

The sadness,
Just that.

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One Response to “Deep Down”

  1. Happiness can be unsatisfying. Keep counting the furniture when that feeling ticks.

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