Morning stumbles and spills all over the table
consoling a sadness
with pomgranites and peaches
revealing a corner where the dust might be dancing
but only if someone is playing its song

Bitter bitter boy
won't you let it go?
let it slide down your backside

Solitude beckons
the days will deceive us
like Christ Quijote on horseback
we take ourselves too seriously

don't serve your anger
don't serve resentment
don't serve a delusion
I believe the worst is behind you

Bitter fallen boy
you must let it go
time will proceed at its own chosen pace