New Years Eve Thoughts. (1) by CpSingleton © 2015
Go ahead, I’m listening…
Oh, you’ve gone.
Another voice, another face,
Lost to another year.
These days I’m like Odysseus carving a horse from driftwood for his son, Telemachus, during that decade of adventure. I whittle away those who seek to harm the final outcome, until the finished article stands tall.
Each new year I’m grey. Until I realise that I don’t need many friends: just good ones.
I used to sit and stare as shadows spread across white walls and wonder why…
Why am I not in a big group of laughing fools?
Where are my band of brothers?
They are lost to the beaches and were never my brothers.
They have their own private boats and I’m not invited on board.
IT’S ME! I used to cry, as I sink into the soft sand, with misery stroking the back of my head.
It took many a battle and several gaping, oozing, septic wounds to realise…
I chose badly and no longer need to.
I will never stop offering a hand.
It’s an impulse. I’m friendly.
But bite it and I hide it forever after.
The carving is coming together nicely, thank you.
Your help is welcome, but not really needed.