i’m not a builder
my awkward tool-clenched hands
to build a house up to the sky
without any plans
blank white blueprint
i heard there was 'help wanted'
could have misheard
it’s hard to make out a whisper in a wind tunnel
that night I stood outside alone
looked up into the black
and whispered a blank check
and cashed it in for a foreign denomination
my home is in your heart
come and make my heart your home
if I take the 'for sale' sign down
from this piece of real estate
bought before it went on the market
unless all these metaphors
are futile analogies
i’ll put an apology
on my epitaph
and hope for a nice eulogy
1 comment:
For some reason this fits perfectly with how I'm feeling tonight. Thanks.
By the way, I live in Jeff City, but drop in KC to visit friends fairly often. I'd love to say hi sometime.
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