fiveamtuesday

Bound and blinded in the cold,      
With rope burns on my wrists.          
I wore concrete boots around the soles,          
As sweat dripped down my fists.          
          
As I contemplated, the fog was rolling          
On this early Tuesday morning.          
A three piece asked my last request          
"I'll just have a cigarette."          
         
It was a selfish comfort I could savor,        
Though not a smoker, I thought I'd try,        
And with every hit the coldness wavered          
To a pale reflection in my eye.          
         
Should anyone be keeping time, it'd be myself          
For this light burns out for no one else,        
And as I contemplated, the smoke was rolling          
On this early Tuesday morning.        
         
At last,        
A gentle rock had thrown me off          
To clean my conscience in the wash.          
I felt my stomach drop some floors          
As my seat sunk several more.          
     
I recalled it all,      
How I gazed beyond the frigid glass,      
And a moon so grand and beautiful,      
I couldn't help myself but gasp.      
      
And with that final breath, I could at last      
Lay softly down to rest,      
Repented for the things I did,      
That got me caught up in this mess.