Shame of Defeat

The walk home is cold, through the ice and snow—

Dreams left in the sleet, hiding the truth,

This is defeat, I have left my feet—

Watch me slip and fall, face down on the street.

My demons pick me up, scratch out my eyes

I'm walking blind, be my guide, take me home—

So I dig my grave, lies grit through my teeth,

But I lie to deny, defeat my dear.

The walk home is cold, the walk of shame—

The walk of broken limbs and dreams.

This is defeat, I have left my feet—

Watch me slip—watch me cry, watch me ire.

Knee deep in fallen snow, down a lonely road—

Making sure you never see me bleed,

I hide my fears, hide my shame, hide my tears,

Planning the day I rise again, day I die again.

       DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Scripted

So tempting to step to the edge,

I hesitate—engulfed in the fear I create,

My toes trickle over the ledge while

At the bottom, fear awaits my descent.

Forgive the words I will never utter

And the devotion I would never give,

But beneath my breath I mutter,

The sentiment you know is buried deep.

Across the river the wildflowers grow,

But here we stand—across the pond—

Life, for all it's highs and lows

Has scratched us from head to foot.

You will leave your life behind

If you give me time to find peace—

My body has no love for my mind,

And that's the way it will always be.

     DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com

Catch My Death

I took your hand, you took my breath

From my lungs, to the hand of death.

Slipping through the shadows without a sound,

Sipping the truthful elixir you found

Would blunt the edge off your lost desire—

Dull the ache and extinguish the fire.

Night comes soon enough, fetch the light—

This is all you are are—all you were was not right.

So I'll learn to let my bottom lip quiver,

When you sit next to me down by the river

We found together in the opulent glade;

I can't remember how long we stayed.

My eyes grow so very weary so I plead

For you to grab the reins and lead

Me softly towards a restful sleep,

And wait patiently while I weep.

For I am not the man I wanted to be,

With age he seems to evade me

To the point I forget to take a breath,

Surely bound to catch my death.

     DannYetman

www.yetmanpoetry.blogspot.com