Often

Not a child anymore,
But I go back there
I easily remember what was
So messed up and hard
Let the River Flow streamed its
Dream on the screen door,
The Interstate in my pores–
It became a daily grind to never
Stay but to always hide–
Often is no longer a caution
For often is the number of times
you failed me, you tore into me,
You broke what I had as a twig
In the wind, a bruised reed,
A unforgiven deed,
A passed down curse for the hearse
You prepare for me–
Lonely is for the lonely and
Not for the extroverts
Or the comics,
Or the master of homiletic,
I preach a great sermon on
Together, but we can live alone
In the balmy weather of ease,
Of sunlight as acceptance,
For the currency of the future
Is paid by living in the present–
For today is the day not to go
Back or to go forward, but today
Is the day to live

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