Cindy,
I didn't need a Lazarus to know
my days were numbered and
the dreams were dead.
On that once sterile ground
the power of pride
led us to take
comfort in contempt.
The granite walls we erected
needed an avalanche of control
instead of a spilled bowl of me
scorching your defenses.
My legacy of retribution:
laundering the memories,
whitewashing our history
and remembering that your shadow
still guards your passion.
