The Reply

I crawl
Under the kitchen sink,
Rusty knife in my hand.
I do not wish
To remain in this world
If it is like you said.

I stand
At this end of the fire,
At this end of the pulled string,
I watch
The blue bridge rising,
And the moon tells me better things.

The air is filled
With the songs of my sadness,
With the smell of my rainy nights.
I spin the reel
Taking me back in time,
But I cannot tell wrong from right.

Forget my words,
You know it better,
You always win the debate.
But you cannot
Alter this music,
Pack eternity into your crate.

I marvel
At your true talent,
But my pain lies aside.
So good-bye,
Keep on shining your winner smile,
I’m keeping my troubled mind.