Going Out
He softens his stash with conditioner
In case his lips are kissed.
Chews mint gum for breath
In case his tongue is met.
Deodorizes, adds a scent with cologne,
Presses clothes,
And straightens the home to show no mess.
The music and the moon is hung
In the air around his flight.
But one thing he left a mess
In search of worthiness this night
And his desire to be kissed;
His sloppy, unorganized broken heart
Cause only one can groom what he missed.
*
‹ The Wind
elbrookman 
I was good till the end….made me sad.
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