I’ve been to the
bitter, dark place
where dreams are
decorations in
dilapidated houses,
a building haunted by
the ghosts of spring.
I tasted the wine of
whores and convicts
there.
I’ve prayed with the
broken and wasted.
I spent
days and months,
almost forever with
the feral men and
women of America in
homes not fit for fleas.
Then one cosmic day,
while the wounded slept,
I chased a beautiful
moth that escaped the flame.
And that has made all
the difference.








Thomas, very powerful spill here.
Thank you.
How did I miss this one? This speaks volumes. Awesome write.
Thank you. I appreciate it.
So many good lines
Thank you, Adira.
Powerfully penned, Thomas. Putting on a writing clinic my friend. This was outstanding. Appreciate you.
Damian
tHANK YOU. i APPRECIATE YOU.