Close The Gate

Time waits for no one,
Especially fools.
Watch where you step
Or you’ll find yourself 
Sinking in quicksand
On the backside of the map.

Pass the salt, please,
So I might rub it in my wounds,
Reminders of what went wrong —
False promises a dime a dozen
Are packed away in my suitcase
And if you’re looking for it
It’s under the bed 

I close the gate behind me,
The voice of the fool
Still ringing in my ears

Ignore him, he knows nothing
  
 

july 2011