Searching Alone

Searching Alone

I used to love tug of wars
and spilled milk
cop calls and knife jabs

now I stand alone
on this corner
of miscommunication and promiscuity

lost in a thousand hands
and closed eyes searching
for a substance I can’t provide

a spirit left under the rail car
on 95th St. trying
to make it to Trinity

can a God not seen
save a soul that’s made a living
demeaning everyone in his path?

unforgiven
in mind and spirt
where it matters most

now my spirit lies dormant
perfectly placed
under a pile of has-beens

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