It wouldn’t have ended that way
If you’d have had my fortune,
Had my characters in your head in 1949.

I shut the book.  Heavy.
And my thoughts turn to you,
Bearing the load of their story,
Ink-tear committing them, it.
Stomach pit of lead
Writing that you had to do.

Heavy.  I sat a while,
I’ll be honest: true.
They let me down,
I can’t imagine what they did to you.

We’re still here,  writers writing
Ink-tear word by word
Tapping out their stories
Words like their footprints
Making marks on the paper snow
Tracking their tales-
Wherever they go.

If you’d have had my characters,
1984 –
It wouldn’t have ended that way.
I just wanted you to know.
They wouldn’t have been able to betray.

It’s 2022, Eric.
And words are still striving,
resonating their simple truth.
Words are hanging on – just

Sword of Damacles
A trigger away from severing
We’re not facing fire.

While there’s air in my lungs
Footprints printed pure in paper snow,
2 +2 will always be 4.

Author: Lowrey E. Gray

Usually found with a cup of tea, a pet or a book, I am most content with life's humble gifts. A catch up with friends and home baked cakes is my idea of bliss. My heart beats where my family are close but my soul will always be in that place between sunset and sunrise. 💚

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