Wayward Motions

Flipping coins between the sheets

Heads- I win

Tails- You lose

So you see its not ok to be

In a limbrobotic pose

The tides can't turn nor change

what has occured

The solar cortex begins to stir

Burgandy seeps into my

folding chair

He asks of me to deliver

    my soul uncovered

         B  A  R  E

But I'm the one who

should be asking you

      What kind of life is a wasted life?

      What are dreams without a dreamer?

But for now I will settle with this:

If all at once all the illusions seem clear

then maybe I will discover

Heaven in an acceptable font.

But until that day comes-

I'll just take my coins

because the game was


You never had a chance to


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