the promise
a lifetime of sleeping under the creaking floors of habit and I'm rabid with self-contempt but exempt from the flagellation it can bring because I still sing and my eyes are open in the passing days and I'm caught up in the latest craze and still wondering how much the job pays and whatever else is fine by far as I sit in my car and wait for the promise of peace to wash over me


Love this
thanks Susan, thanks for the comment, good to see you