Detour on My Way to Heaven

gray0328

 

 

I took a detour on my way  

to heaven, found a broken bar  

with half-dead stools and ash  

piled in corners like lost years.  

 

The jukebox croaked Sinatra’s ghost,  

beer flattened on my tongue like  

every bad decision I married.  

 

A woman with cracked red nails  

and eyes that forgot their shine  

asked if I was waiting for death.  

 

"Just the bus," I said, smiling.  

 

Outside, the streets whispered sin,  

alleys coughed up their regrets,  

and the neon blinked like a last  

heartbeat trying to outrun nothing.  

 

Maybe heaven was too clean,  

too polished for a man like me.

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Comments +

Comments3

  • nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson)

    enjoyed the read

  • sorenbarrett

    A lovely poems with some really good lines. (alleys coughed up their regrets) was one that spilled its guts. A fave my friend

  • Doggerel Dave

    Purgatory? Limbo? (not religious, so don't ask me...)
    Recognise the seediness, and don't think I could stand the polish anyway. Very downbeat in a way I can relate to.



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