The Line

The message wasn’t ever so clear

I own the time, when my time is near

“Finally!” They Say “ He touched a Chord”

Sad! it ends up being his final word

Some ever so lonely walks it took

The shedding of some unpopular thoughts

The Surprise present on an unexpected nook

A diversion which skewed away a planned path

Blue Flumes from a Cigarette fumed away a streak

The lost gleam gave way to the undreamt

He does need to walk to the pedestal they said

If your story is ever to be heard

“Why cant I leave some open questions”

He is 24 and is one of the unruly sons

It isn’t always perfect to be good

Wouldn’t Would be better than the Should

Redemption is the flavor of the season

They dream every night, and we redeem

What use is another take on your dry reason

“Nobility” in your story is the everyman dream

The fumes blackened a breathing lung

Redundant ideas were seen flying in the sky

In the death throes I decided the line

Here ends my story which is not mine

I hid that line in realms of the college victory

When it twisted to necessitate that pink love

While She smiled, when he pulled one more of his antics

They call the line one of my mysterious tricks