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A Conversation with God
I bitch; And I moan; And I rant, 'til insane.
And curse through spit, one spite-filled name.
For, upon His high, I lower all guise,
to castigate, this Lord of Lies.
When comes 'lone times, wonder do I;
What went wrong and as to, why?
One day, sunny; the next, gray skies.
Forever now, I only sigh.
I shrug a shoulder for your gifts, Divined.
Some gifts, I guess, best left behind.
But, now am old and a wrinkled guy,
whose better days have gone, bye-bye.
Though, now I know more of self;
the good, the bad, what life has dealt.
For, the one thing age has made me see,
is the god I've cursed is truly, me.
Published 21st Jun 2018
| Edited 9th Aug 2018
Author's Note
I'm about to turn 62 (great, ha) and over the past several years, the older I've become the more reflective I am becoming. I'll spare you the, whys and wherefores' of the many dark, personal things which have affected my inner being... my soul, if I may, since I was 11 years old. Suffice to say, my writings of late have been, for me, self analytical and very revealing. This latest one, 'A Conversation with God,' has come as one of those, "epiphany," moments and has broken new ground in my ongoing attempts to understand how I have arrived at this particular moment in time and also helps me, somewhat, deal with some inner demons. To those of you whom can appreciate and empathize with the subject, I'm sorry. For, this is truly an area where misery doesn't want company.
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