Wounded Men
Wounded Men
I tend to kiss the wounded men
Make wounded love, make wounded friends
A wounded marriage to a wounded spouse
A wounded life in a wounded house
A wounded babe, it begins again
With a wounded son kissing wounded men
Things I said or wrote
Wounded Men
I tend to kiss the wounded men
Make wounded love, make wounded friends
A wounded marriage to a wounded spouse
A wounded life in a wounded house
A wounded babe, it begins again
With a wounded son kissing wounded men
They Always Warn
They always warn before they strike;
I pretend surprise.
Righteously burns the venomous bite
from fangs of love-laced, proffered lies.
Toxic is the truth, when dosed
by those who're prone to live
lives of hope and dreams bespoke
by those who're prone to give.
Yet nary does a day pass by,
when in the throes of death I spy
the end of love in someone's eye
and soon to speak the words "good bye."
And then the numbing does set in
to ease the sight of rendered skin
shed, uncoiled by former friend.