I sit alone on the Fourth of July.
Winds whistle loudly around me as I am clouding up for a torrential downpour
I am sore by the words you have left for me as offerings
Delicate as I try to discern between the lines of your blathering
I am glistening
Watching close and listening
Why you speak is far beyond my need
'cause all I need is some holding
Truth spoken
And I am like the spoke in the wheel ends up remaining broken
I am choking on my apathy
Wishing for love
Yet its laughing at me
Hating this time alone but remembering
That Auset doth speak only appropriately
Why all this mockery
I am blocking nothing as I connect fluidly
To the Universe see?
I am fathoming
All the things that could seem maddening
Yet in this mind it is primal math you see
I am crafting speech
Hoping the population reach
Offering myself up as a sacrifice
Advice not so much but a shoulder cry
I do not defy
Only continue to try until I get it right
Knock this ball out of sight
I am not your plight
Only cause you fright
If you are not living right
Because I strive
For righteousness
I can devise
A plan to make a stand on any night
I will call this right
Offer up the best you have and we will set it in stride
I am a cleansing tide
We are the ones we have been waiting for
And this
Is
The Night
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