“I willingly believe that the damned are, in one sense, successful, rebels to the end; that the doors of hell are locked on the inside.” — CS Lewis
Bad times keep us growing
Good times keep us going
Until we outgrow
And, do, we outknow
The One, Who, calls the shots
***
Good times can go bad
Bad times, only, had
Till the fine line between
Can no longer be seen
Cannot wash, out, damned spot
***
Redemption's a joke
Damnation a cloak
To hide us from Him
Divine antonym
Out of sight, there, no doubt
***
Grand tour’s over
Full disclosure
Tallies our score
Down to the core
Kettle calls, black, the pot
***
Welcome back is a phrase
Denied by our ways
Of rebellion to the last
Joining those who are cast
With those who, Him, hear not
***
We're the cocksure winners
And the shockproof sinners
Who owe, no One, apologies
To forgive self-serving qualities
Key-in-pocket, stay, our lot
***
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***
About the Creator
Gerard DiLeo
Retired, not tired. In Life Phase II: Living and writing from a decommissioned church in Hull, MA. (Phase I was New Orleans and everything that entails. Hippocampus, behave!
https://www.amazon.com/Gerard-DiLeo/e/B00JE6LL2W/
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More stories from Gerard DiLeo and writers in Poets and other communities.
Vale Perficientur
"My tears need a minute to find the edges of my face. If you'll please excuse me." The sarcasm stabbed into Juliana’s heart. Antonia glared at her from the pit of the Lyceum as her student fought to hold back tears that had nothing to do with the pain in her fingers. “You’re better than this, again.”
By Matthew Fromm4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Good times can go bad. Very true. What can go wrong would definitely go wrong. Loved your poem!