I squeeze the blood out of life alone.

Once effort falls,
So does the reward.
I hold my breath, but
My tongue moves without better judgment.
The practice shifts,
So the living drifts.
I befell to the joke again.

Prey to play,
The wistful fool puts strangers on a growing pedestal.
But for some strange reason, I attracted
Beauty like never before.
She crossed my path,
But no more
Longer than a score of moons.

As days pass, I attempt to light the path
Of wayward lines
Without smudging.
So used to fighting the way,
An admitted coward,
I squeeze the blood out of life alone.
Failing to fail gracefully,
The errant child blames humanity.

My soul is all that’s left.
I found myself
Eight months ago,
Lest a return of the grandeur.
The sweet delusion
Teases without warrant,
Routinely returns nothing in favor.

Should my work pass as art?
Holding close
To self-defined rules and standards,
Terms never heard before;
These days
My words live
In a realm of free expression
Within the boundaries of a soulless confine.


8 thoughts on “I squeeze the blood out of life alone.

    1. I don’t even remember what stanza means, lol. Self-defined rules and standards in my poetry…

      Had to look stanza up—second block. …I’m not revealing who ‘she’ is. 😉



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