Robert James May Poetry

 I feel it again. The addictive yearning for the sweet burn of euphoria on the rocks. There are the thoughts again. More concerning when they creep firm and bore into my heart with grips like claws of ice and fire. The desire to break my streak of which I'm proud is loud within my ears and I hear the cries of those I wish to forget.   Sunset falls and the night begets temptations to drink away my time  and smile fake smiles while crying real lies. Tonight, minute by hour, inch by mile, day by week, valley to peak this path, my boots will tread. I feel it again, but hope has bred tenacity. I will be  victorious

I'm sorry I couldn't save you, child. My thoughts of you run fast sometimes And in those times, I weep to the angels, child. I fear my punishment and accept same time, And for a time, it ran my behavior, child. I can't break free or run from your eyes And I don't deserve peace or a savior, child. A love that never reached existence, despite my  persistence to pursue your face, hands, and smile Despite my pleas that fell on determined ears And I stand, sad and branded in my psyche, now. Not likely to reach peaceful years and all the while  I picture possible toes and ears  And fast come the tears.