the puddle you plapped on through
were once a well e’er tranquil deep
still i spared your feelings sheer
tho’ none allowed me tend my own
were we running out of time
to cultivate me with you
or are you glad i’m gone now
to bare horizons me bestrewed
the inner guts of my skull
once a hill of bones replete
a place you called golgotha
now one through iris shone with hope
i fear we have had our time
to cultivate the me from you
must confess i’m gladness gone
to horizons tilled rain bestrewed
sometimes things don’t work out
once thought it ne’er would for me
& sometimes you have to leave
before the seed can dare to bloom
know there can be no more time
feel the inner guts of my will
gone to build me a new home
to far horizons hum bestrewed
by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024






RIP Halloween. (For another year!)