ATONEMENT

I wake to know my reason.  

To leave why? It is the Season. 

Left to Wright I'm not uptight And have a feeling I am About.

To speak on, A bigger, 

better purpose then that of one of dirt,

stepped upon and treated with hate,

I do not dance this Way!

Decisions to Write A book.

Come when Time is Taken,

I can't put back on the rack the words you drive-in with tacks.

Memories are coming square,

prodigy, genius or dare,

it will not matter in the end,

for this will be a Den.

Of Iniquities or Sorts,

will not matter Ports,

where I land upon a plot,

it will be 6ft Feet Down.

The rain will be; Tears Not.

A Notice is not my type hand written verse,

a riddler laughter: What is funny: Knotted.

Waiting on what will never be,

I would like to use my life.

Walk out the suicides I've had too.

Watch, be privy to the locks that seem to be about.

Thought I would write to a life And how many times it was taken,

smothered by whom was at home,

A Congregational atone.

July 9th, 2012