Removed from my sight, at great forgetting time stretched distance,
Memory weakens casting a shade over reasons for my resistance
Subsequent to long and manifold rotations and revolutions,
Nieve good with intentions I mistakenly grant absolution.
Such as a sun beaten glass of lemonade plugged into hot midsummer beach sand,
No purpose for your presence, subjecting myself is asking to be damned.
There is no thirst you could quench, instead your’re like a taste that is harsh and brash,
Like riding on a high all day then finally coming to a sudden crash.
Like water you find a way back, taking paths of least resistance,
Time doesn’t waste much before I am reminded why I keep you without risk, safely distant.
Obligation to bloodlines, I display tolerance until your exit,
You’re not riding on ocean waves, it’s more like leaking from cesspit.
Time ago I analyzed myself feeling dark spirited for what you make me feel,
As years passed and you replayed episodes creating fear of your ordeals.
Lessons were learned I now keep away to avoid your chaos and strife.
Obligation to bloodlines I keep the peace and hold these thoughts inside.
Sour Lemonade by Christofer Barbieri