non-committal
Mr. Grey
you are who you are
the way
a man like you
disappears when it
mostly matters.
the world-gone-to-pieces-in-a-frail-hen-basket,
he scatters.
all the eggshells broken, un-gathered.
no eggs whole enough to take to the market.
motor's running hard, but,
Mr. Grey will park it.
or he might loose the key.
maybe, he's on the lam
or another leave.
build a windmill to cause the wind
to bring his ship in
if not, then build a lighthouse
to send out a beam of light
a cyclops eye to see where he
might have been
embroider your name, your number
on his sleeve
so it will not wash out
perhaps its not
the non-committal
Mr. Grey
who's never white or black
that's the problem here.
perhaps you are the one
who doth offend
for when the arm getteth
gangrene
you do the right thing and
cut it off
cut it clean.
Mr. Grey
is rarely through nor does he
completely
stay away.
the stain of his memory doesn't
fade or fray.
and you,
you just mostly suffer.
Resurrected from an old book of writing from 1997.
Maybe it should have died a quiet death? who knows.
Copyright October 7, 2011 All Rights Reserved By This Author
Meloo/Melissa A Howells Tilt-a-World
Reworked October 11, 2014 All Rights/Writes Reserved By This Author
All Ideas/Rants/Poetry/Prose are the legal property of this writer.
