a cast character actor,
you were only following
the script,
what the writer was really
what would be otherwise
nondescript, lost,
tossed, forsaken:
love left bleeding, broken,
never taken,
something that you puzzle over
when you awaken,
long overwhelmed,
by what it was that left you
what had passed this way,
worrying about
what you would say,
to everyone who came
this way, today:
"it just overcame me,
it was a singularity,
taken flight, and I hope never
again to see it this night,"
as you paused, in repose,
but as everyone knows,
you left as you had arrived,
with your choices
already chose.

October 24, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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