At the dawn of Summers past while burned out and fragmented,

A hammer knife and bottle had me surely tormented,

While tired of being sorely lamented,

By such brotherly love I would have relented,

 

Yet I had learned such things were tenuous and cruelly cut,

Lasting only by doing enough and not too much,

And for that I had no such luck,

Spoke with my heart and it turned to muck,

 

It was all a mirage a foundation of sand,

That slipped through some wayward hands,

Ideologically speaking I was horribly naive,

Believing everyone else was as passionate as me,

 

So at the dawn of Summers past while burned out and fragmented,

A hammer knife and bottle had me surely tormented. 

 

 

 

~ G McK