Long after you left…
Your pointed words stayed with me
Often acting as effective antidotes
To the excesses of my own mind
All of my wild leaps of imagination
Swiftly cut down to size
By your pre-emptive acts of concern
Had it not been for you
I may’ve been lying fallen somewhere
Ditched by default of my own design
Yes, the credit for my salvation
Must be rightly accorded to you
And to the corrective power of sarcasm
For what could’ve otherwise been brutal
And left me hurt and wounded
Is now only a persistent dull ache…
I continue to exist- corrected, but wronged
Alive, but dead; breathing in a coffin
Shrouded in a symbolic spotless white.
Wit. Wisdom. Wonder... 