The Peppermill ~ Friday, July 18, 2025

I should have known better, right from the start

should have seen the red flags as warning signs
how different my choices would have been, life
of course, without any guidance, lacks art
understanding the telltale signs, a gift
like any other talent, heeds guidelines
defense mechanisms rebel in strife

hold a candle for light against the dark
arguments arise out of fear, a rift
very deep, separates sense from nonsense
each day, I look back in wonder at how

kindness saves from misguided ways, dense
natural forests, full of wolves, shallow
obviously difficult, people spark
wonder in their actions, choose to abuse
nice and gentle children, warp their soft minds

blisters form scars as memories, these wounds
enabled by alcoholics, a ruse
the modus operandi of the blind
together with their mates, as pepper grinds
each broken shard assembles into hounds
retrievers take back what was once stolen

reason, sharp as a kitchen knife, I find
invests me with power to help others
given, I read philosophy, this tool
honed over centuries, shown, uncovers
tranquility, as a sea, as a school

fish in the ocean, see children broken
right from the start, without guidance, this life
obeys the laws of wealth, of attraction
mirrors the mimicry of adults lost

to alcohol and drugs, lives full of strife
honing Damascus knives with poor vision
envision this beautiful distraction

suddenly or gradually, the cost
transfers from childhood until all debts paid
answer nothing to loathsome division
remember the pure, original mind
tranquility found deep in purity

monsters exist as metaphors, the blind
observe the wicked in tranquility
mother troposphere, to rest, I've been laid