The little band
of gold
slides from the hand
of time;
from baby days
of mistakes &
dismay
& regrets, wrongdoings,
pain that, still pursuing,
we determine to bind
into this outdated symbol
of so called love
& so pass from the mind
the anguish that remains.
You laughed:
Let’s put it down the drain.
Take it back & reclaim
what’s lost,
what never grew
& watch it sink
into the stink;
the darkness, where it may be put to rest,
when you played at being a stupid kid*
& listen to the clink
as it gutters through the grimed grate.
You turned on your torch so better to take
in the sweet sight
of it being fully defiled.
Finally free,
you put your strong arm around me
& rushed me down the street.
Back home
(our home)
alone,
but together;
no longer a spectre
to hold me back from you,
I thought of truth;
there’s still so much to be gone through,
but each time I walk past
that same
dumb drain,
I laugh
& remember your face,
keeping me safe,
putting love before hate
*Alkaline Trio