The Shadow Reel

They don’t:
See me
Hear me
Feel me.

Only when I’m drunk,
I’m a symphony trumpet punk.
A bright note under glass.
Angel Gabriel, on his ass.

Maybe I’ll go.
Why ever should I stay?
A flower in concrete
Wills no roses at his feet.

Give me a break.
Oh wait, you already did.
Got what I deserved
For acting like a kid.

Looking back, it’s easy
To overlook the ones I hurt.
Lonely, achey, queasy,
Wounded little bird

Nesting in the briars,
Brambling through the breeze.
The meter’s now expired
So I’m tweeting to the trees


Zone S1E32