What's that which hides quite deep inside,lurking down there, buried in m...
What's that which hides quite deep inside,
lurking down there, buried in mind,
that selfish part that stirs to strife,
wants me to be focus of life?
Like that one time you showed with glee
the pages raw for your story
with cleverness I picked and ripped
I beat dead horse, flayed raw and bit
back proffered love to whine and spit
in spirit bent way back to be
mostly in point just about me.
I hang my head, I am sorry
to have taken your trust in the
spirit of love raised high freely,
which should have meant you only see
constructive partnership with me
that elevates and thus creates
a nursery tender and safe
in which to grow what you create
watered with love, kindness, and play.
And so I come to you with shame
immortalizing thus my blame
to look upon later and train;
myself from I must part away,
from others' hearts my choices gauge,
starting with yours, steering a course
away from dire rock and hard place
by guiding star live with more grace
until I write about those days
of youth and epic made mistakes
you watched me grow past, slowly change;
I'll "Better late than not," proclaim,
and smirk at you because you knew
me way back when my heart first flew
at walls and things and then into
quirky migration once it grew
and rightly learned to fly quite true,
with graceful arcs, loops, banks, and swoops
orbiting wonders just like you.
( What's that which hides quite deep inside, )
where'd it come from, and how'd it find
a way in there from the outside
to which I'll send it back in stride.
--Chroma Key 2017-02-21