TAKING A SAD SONG

How do you make it better?

Paul told me not to make it bad,

But sitting here in the dark,

The hall light like a luminous spirit

Hanging over me, I can’t seem

To wash the tears from my eyes.

 

The empty house, filled with

Lost-hopes, hallow voices, and empty promises

Drown the once buoyant chants of the

Frost on Sunday rerun I found on YouTube.

 

Maybe from the steps of superstardom

The depths of despair

Look like a small puddle.

 

But the staircase to Paradiso

Passes through the Inferno,

And I think I might have gotten lost

In Purgatorio

 

Just like mama and papa did.

Why else could such good souls

Not make it into heaven?

——

 

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