He sits on his barstool
with tears in his eyes;
Cigar in hand,
nursing a beer.
He feels like death warmed over,
hasn’t slept for days;
Pain in his heart,
He’s a broken man.
His wife hurt him –
injured his heart;
He loves her still,
but doesn’t trust her anymore.
His brothers standby him
& give him of their strength;
He may stumble & fall,
but their holding him up.
If he can forgive &
she can stay faithful;
flowers can bloom from
the ground again.
He stands tall – sure in himself,
looking into the future –
blood standing beside &
He’s ready to take on the storm.
dedicated to Jonas Sosa Jr.
wil becker
1996.07.14
