Here is the third poem I wrote in Tucson. I had a real hard time falling asleep in the motel. especially Friday night, my last night. I had worked until almost 10pm and had to be back at 6am, so insomnia wasn't a good thing at the time. I did write this during those early hours of morning, Kind of tired and bleary and ready to come home. I had been tossing the title around as a poem concept even before I left and had originally tried to write it then, but I didn't find anything about that version that felt right. I wanted the poem to be a thank you to those who help me through the rough times, because that is what it means to me I also feel that you could get some darker undertones in how you infer the title. Maybe I am trying to much, but I wanted the dual meaning there. Poetry is open to interpretation though, I just hope you take something away with it. Thanks for reading.
My Oldest Friend
The weight upon me feels so heavy.
Attacks me so I can't defend.
When everything is best forgotten,
I seek for what I can surely depend.
Nowhere left to turn,
My soul to worn to mend
When I've nothing left to give,
And I'm to tired now to still pretend.
Trying hard to break free,
To finally snap this beaten trend.
Drowning soon upon my sorrows,
In sins that I soon will rend.
Caught in so much confusion,
I can no longer comprehend.
Can't find my own salvation.
Breaking hard I cannot bend,
Looking for a chance of hope,
A hand out in offered lend.
Reaching out to pull me up,
That redemption shall make amend.
And when the things that hold me down,
Threaten again to offend.
I can look that that one certainty,
When my time feels at an end,
To turn to what's left to me,,
And rely upon my oldest friend
End of Line.