September 8
Helping Hands?
Why would you go to a rattler for a snakebite remedy? It feels so much like the hair of the dog that bit me. The truth is I must, must stay away from the quick answers. I am a slow healer, but I do heal if I allow myself to do so unencumbered by poison or untruth. When I am returning to the vomit of my past it is incumbent upon me to search for the old lies and/or the new ones, either or both will get me drunk; do I even need the help of a prescription pad?
Never cage harbingers
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SELF-SEEKING IS A DEBIT
Trying to get credit for everything I do
Has run me into debt in my anonymity account
Which draws directly from my humility bank.
I cannot expend my resources seeking acknowledgement
And expect to retain much dignity or class.
How can I build within, while constantly grasping,
For nods and smiles from scenery and landscaping?
I want approval so much that I have lost my center.
In an attempt to top the charts I forgot my song.
My ego writes checks that my soul can’t cover.
I run my potential into the red
Looking to get my name in black and white.
If I keep my name out of lights
I have a chance of building up my dignity.
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