The Errors of my Way

Not going to speak of motivation

Or being in tuned with spirit

Won’t assert my own personal beliefs

Because I may feel owner of truth 

Will not cleverly decipher my childhood

And adult years 

And spew it on some rhetorical rant

Of now knowing better

That I’ve somehow figured it out

Or that divinely inspired 

I’ve spoken out words of awakening

No I dare not partake 

Of such false imagery 

Only to capture the attention of you

I’d rather digest my failures

Into essays

Formulated from my tears

Spouting into capsules of reality

That yes I have wronged a multitude 

Of past lovers and friends

Have used them as a means to an end 

Where human and sub human exist 

Lest not forget 

Cursed as I am

I bleed from self inflicted penance 

Yet you’ll never attest to this

Viciously astute I do hide well

Behind an erected stature 

With no chip left on shoulder 

I seek repentance 

From thee

From myself 

And What I’ve yet to do to you

From the errors of my way

The Pen

This pen dastardly disobeys me

By not allowing my heart to write what it wants

Dare I blame it?

It has bore witness to many lies

Has seen its share of bias words

It is my vessel 

Be that as it may

I depend on thee

Heavily 

To jot down emotions

In detailed disarray 

Appeasing this pain in my being

Releasing ink

Like my veins release poison

Do not leave me yet

This pen of mine

Turn your back another day

But not today

For I still have more to tell