Moods

Headlong
A wayward wind
A wayward man
A toxic din

Long last
A Sanity
A vigilance
A rarity

What's wrong
With undue guilt?
With what you've felt?
With hand made hell?

Cuts deep
And bleeds a bit
And bites your lip
And takes a sip

Not that
You had a chance
You wore the pants
You stood your stance

Knew well
It wouldn't last
It had to pass
It had to crash

Just when
You thought you won
You had your fun
You made your run

Headlong
A waning trend
A fading wind
A fallen man.

©Copyright 2007 Jason J. Loya