My Highest Expectations

Cause to embellish the flaws,
the woven silk that did not take,
unrelenting these forsaken mistakes
that keep me up at night, late,
and in time’s compressing thoughts,
those faults become gargantuan,
so broad the sun cannot rise
within this compromise
of self-ineptitude.

Introspection is a clarity I attest, yet,
it seems to create a debt
I’m rather unwilling to pay,
for its at a cost that diminishes my day,
and in the malaise
of my hoped self-absolution,
I cannot just let go the shadow
of what disarms me,
the purity that disowns me.

Not God you say, but
some divinity at least in my favor,
at a minimum a potential I can convey
to my inner equilibrium,
before being cast aside
for a requiem of all I’m not,
a lot to pay for this, my impure mind,
my imperfect kind of humanity,
in vehement conjecture.

If potential was a clothing
I could not wear,
then perhaps my thoughts without despair,
would comfort this old soul,
but wholly I am gifted
with a future uplifted with hope,
and the guile to give it scope
in reparation for all I worry,
reflect and parry in disrepair.

Perhaps if I ignore the blatant,
observe the nuances
but hold the positive alone,
maybe the delusion will void
the regrets and soul destroying flaws
that like a ghost of past,
haunt my nights
all for a reprieve I do not allow
in my highest expectations.

Tony DeLorger © 2018

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Tony DeLorger

Full time author, freelance writer, poet and blogger since 1999. Twenty one published works, past winner of 'Poet of the Year' on HubPages, 'Poem of the Year' on The Creative Exiles, writer for Allpoetry.com, Google+, tonydwtf.blogspot.com.au
videos on YouTube and book sales on website thoughtsforabeautifulmind.com, Amazon and digitalprintaustralia.com.au/bookstore

Latest posts by Tony DeLorger (see all)

• I Held Her Once - April 19, 2019
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• As Gods Allow - March 30, 2019