slurred in slosh
of insecurity's grief
self perceived
that no one
had...but he.
contained himself in
misery
consigned by grief
of losing past
loves...
ever reaching out
in greed, to take the hand
of strength to have
it crumble
to ash in his hand...
what is the cure then?
perhaps to quit judging
himself so harshly
seeing lights only
reflected from pity's
folly
in the bottom
of his glass...
wish upon him
only tomorrows
fulfilled without pity
nor judgment,
but joy and freedom
from past.
Perhaps then too
he will cease to
misunderstand.
Love's greatest joy
is acceptance in whole
not part of a person.
Adding your comment:
sounds like a movie
