Usurper

Folder: 
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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