future.
i thought i knew you.
fast friends.
knew my place, knew your face,
this was supposed to be IT…
well,
it was.
it was.
then it was a dream.
up and gone,
far and fast,
trying to make beauty
from yesterday’s trash.
like a so-called artist
making murals with bottle caps
with a smile and a tip ‘o the hat.
that is his future and he knows it so well.
started with a mission, ended
in bottle cap hell.
oh well. i bought
into the
hard sell.
became a salesman myself,
selling an image of righteousness
i am wearing with selfishness
like designer shoes - over-priced foolishness -
so that you might shine bright.
But you burned me
returned me
to a harsh reality.
so future,
i gotta be up front:
your number is up, finished
like my coffee cup.
and if i know anything for certainty:
spiritually, relationally, and rationally,
you will not control me.
