The pattern keeps emerging
foolhardy loops repeating
always saying next time
always words I’m eating
Don’t have an explanation
I haven’t got excuses
One hand to grip the railing
the grip that still refuses
to let go of the old stuff
to blow it out the spout hole
and move on with a fresh start
move on with a fresh goal
but this dead hour’s expired
And I’m about my mission
hoping next time won’t find me
in the pattern’s position
No comments:
Post a Comment