The Goldfinch

Holding my hand near The Goldfinch
thinking that this is the time I let go.
Hoping that there is something there
deep down
willing to stop me.
I claim to know what it means to let go.
A mighty boast to be sure
but when it comes time
(I mean really comes time)
there’ll always a part there
that talks reason
tells me I don’t have to be this person
that I can take pleasure
in the simple things.

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2 thoughts on “The Goldfinch

  1. But you do have to be that person, otherwise, who will you be?
    I too take the cobbly road, seldom travelled, looking on wistfully at the dreamy tarmac super road beside me whilst my arse hurts with every bump and rattle. I can relate to this post, brother.

    Liked by 1 person

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