Your Picture Frame

The world has torn me
apart left in the dark.
What is left of me for
you to try and mark.

I left the day long ago
I dwell in night in spite
of all I have known my
way ears hard do fight.

Left the pasture long
ago I am a simple man.
Yet my deep spirit it
follows not commands.

Pride or my love of me
I’ve been torn unto thee
a scorned night sleep
two nights I lack I reap.

Astound I embark holy
shit there is all my folly.
No trip or travel could
help in sorrowless jolly.

The embers burn out
so I look at your picture.
I scrap down words after
I read some scripture.

I try remain here longer
when I see her eyes.
They that take me in words
I promise you I’ll not conive.

Her look pierces drastic
ways I can not now contain.
All that brings comfort
more than your picture frame.

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