A Verdict Sometime Galls

Don’t Allow Disputes To Rob Your Love

Jonathan’s boat-lights fade out of sight,
fumes fuse in the darkness.
I’m sinking into the muck…
got to gain a grip or I’ll side.
Gooseflesh runs along my spine.
Dad’s warned me never to go near the water.

Disputes over Dad stoled our affections,
I’m reduced to a scab…
itchy and crusted over.
An urge to leap into the deep,
soften the hardness but,
Dad’s passing weighs on me…
he warned me never to go near the water.

My deteriorating grasp becomes a tighter grip…
caution rules my verdict.
I gather my hurts and madness,
shove them inside to ripen and to heal.
I kept my promise…
and never went in the water.

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