Wayward Motions

If God only knew about the cigarettes-

Last night's Marlboro was left to wilt in your Hand.

Diagnosis, diagnosis-

You can't hide your swollen feet from Me.

The observant Daughter;  

Like you, like Me.

The desk lamp light radiates heat into

the pores.  

Thousands upon thousands

of hours have been spent pouring

over webs of words.

The self-indulgent C.I.A.-

And right here in my own home!

You retired so that you could start

a business.  

What irony is this!

If God only knew about the questions-

Two days ago you asked, next week you will ask again.

"Yes, I am graduating this semester."

"My name is Sara. Not Aunt Patty."

Diagnosis, diagnosis-

Like a chorus in a song, let us repeat for

an optimal experience!

You nod at the wheel, sentences go unfinished-

We're sorry Sir, but you've

missed the turn ten hundred miles ago.  

You probably could have reached

Dante's 9th level in hell!  

If God only knew about the Smile-

The one that has a For Sale sign posted.

Diagnosis, diagnosis-

You tilt and you lean, the knees

shudder under pressure.  

If only my eyes were playing me

for a fool.

Your shadow is growing ever

larger- your eyes, like dark pools.

How long before I will only find you

in dreams?

Will it be this soon?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Sickness is a sad thing

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