Your time has come at last

sides no longer hold fast

and laces began to fray

so long ago, I couldn’t say

with certainty. But I know

it may have started to show

around the time my first dog

passed away.

Your soul has been busted

so bad you can’t be trusted

to keep the soggy puddles

from soaking in. It muddles

my steps, flapping and cracking

so energy sapping and lacking

in grace. Yet you led me through roots

of cobblestones and cathedrals.

There you’ll sit on the floor,

cause I daren’t do more.

And you don’t seem to fit in the trash.




Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s