The stars are there, faithful, quiet, watching.
They hold the seeds of a thousand wishes
I've planted with fingertips reaching for dreams.
Tonight I carve another wish into midnight
at the fork of anger and forgiveness.
I am not ready to forgive the boot marks
left by a preacher high on drugs and lies
so direct my outrage into words of change.
This grief is cheap whiskey and I drink the swill
until drunk vocabulary batters my brain with
speech I won’t utter, but the belly burn of bile
is getting harder and harder to swallow.
I’m tossing up a wish for inner peace, a smile
not hiding pain, and an end to my hypocrite’s war
I’m weary of being judged because I no longer
pay my dues into the till of the righteous crock.
©Susie Clevenger 2015
I call writing poetry my pencil therapy. I have been dealing with something
painful for years. For the most part I have kept it in its cage, but lately the
banging at the cell bars is getting louder. I won't divulge details because
it is too personal and many fall within its net. I've forgiven a lot of things.
I'm afraid this has a lot more miles to go before I reach forgiveness.
Real Toads ~ The Heart's Desire