His heart ached
for what wasn’t
anymore —
How hard it is to feel
“…forgive them
forevermore.”
Yet, the cliché states
something about
a window and a door,
and at that exact moment,
it slammed in his face
and he heard the
crowd roar.
In your
wildest dreams.
Wake up,
Bozo.
They aren’t thinking
about you
one way or another
as if they
ever did and certainly
not anymore,
correctingly
“Quoth the raven,
‘Nevermore.’”
Look around;
feel the love
flowing from
every pore
building a trickle,
a branch, a stream,
a river raging
right through
eternity’s
door,
all
for
you.