So, come June 1st

I’ll have been 4 months in Exile

With only myself to speak with

Yes, my son is present

But, due to his youth

And his ways

And his self indulgence

His company is that

Of a Stone Wall

 

I miss my wife and little ones

I miss the days of ignorance and oblivious righteousness

I miss the days of “maybe tomorrow”

I do not miss the human race, the race was lost so long ago

Yet a medal never won

 

I am here, in the wastelands

Of loneliness

I await my salvation

The whisper from sweet lips

Of my young bride

To beckon

 

Come Home Love

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