perspective point

perched way out there on
each new morning’s broken horizon
rests the complication of our visible hunter
staying dead is the body of last month
preferring to forget what is necessary
eventually the awareness of always being preyed upon
can make a predator out of you
trampled on by the current conditions
into the weather patterns of a tornado mood
vital as the alcohol was to a good time when
every next day was as painfull as a migrane
purposefully avoiding what doesn’t hurt bad enough
optional choices that no longer seem optional
including the waking up after last night’s party
now i pray to come home to you
where the night is so true

About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
This entry was posted in poem, poems, poetry, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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