One day

...you'll know
what's inside my mind.

...you'll know
how much I need.

...you'll know
when you are right.

...you'll know
how you are wrong.

...you'll know
when the fat lady has gasped
her last bar-room song.

Until then
you can
Ripley's believe it
or not.
Simple statement of
matter-of-fact,
like shadows
on the Cave's wall.

Not harshly made,
rather
gently proffered,
one prisoner
to another.
Meager rations
for sure,
locked in knowledge
that my
slender pen
can never pierce
the reality
thought balloon
inside your head

© Copyright 2005 Shroud Press