A Weekend Guitar After Work

Good, silent tears

Washing away deeply held pressures

Errors intending to stay

Flushed in a river called it’ll be okay

Strength appearing as weakness

In these silent hidden tears

Making way for humbleness and new beginnings.

*

Picking up weary feet

Changing direction from self-pity street

Recognizing temporary for what it is

Refusing to give fear a friendly lift

And God has saved me from what I was

Literally saved my life from cruel demons and thugs

So I’ll clean my windshield yeah clean my view

With a few gallons of silent tears then merge back on the path renewed.

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