Upon a Rainy Friday

The rain falls from skies grey like the skin of the dead,
I walk through the puddles, and find my boots leak,
Not like Soldiers boots, my soldiers boots never leaked,
But I am not a soldier anymore,
There is a lot I am not any more, whether I like it or not.

Today marks the end of one more thing that I was,
One more thing that I beleived in and put my whole soul into,
Only to find my devotion was left wanting,
Lying in the mud feeling abandoned and alone,
Never able to wash my hands of the blood I see upon them.

Everything comes to an end they say,
And perhaps somethings don't end soon enough,
And somethings end too soon.
And so the latter or the former, one thing ends and another begins.

I look into the grey sky,
Feet wet but my soldiers jacket keeping me dry and warm,
And I feel the rain on my face,
Drops falling with as much uncertainty,
As the Future seems to hold.

I have hope, and I have dreams,
and I have the drugs the good doctors say,
To keep the Demons at arms length,
and let me see my hands clean for short periods of time.
Perhaps these things are enough,
To fill the spaces of what I am not anymore,
While I rediscover what I should have become,
Years ago......

Quincy R. Tatum
1/20/2012