Tommy Cattorneyatlaw ponders; wondering why, feeling….
A rip of the heart,
a tear at the gut,
is it worth it,
as you pick the pieces up.
Maybe not, as they fall back in disarray,
swirling in the blood strewn about as it always was.
Spread about, disheveled as they always were,
a sanctimonious display in a horrid array.
Nothing changes, it just remains,
not trite, but glib, it stays the same.
Not the name and brutality omnipresent,
it’s sick, reality, & omniscient.
A vomit of blood, a resultant finding,
the truth not hiding, it never was.
A slap across the years, trying, never seeing,
not knowing the quest or even why.
How to begin, not whither, not die,
but far from within, so lost again.
A walk across, slain by inequity,
a death that haunts most painfully.
Is there no escape, no sanctuary,
or must it all gut reality?