As Yet Untitled 1001

by H.L. Nichols

Are you too the arbiteur of

Fine lines that regal annals of

Truth and justice or

Are these penalties that constitute youth

To serve as reminders of just the American Way?

And the mistakes that one made yesterday

Or is this the persecution like Mumia truly?

How could I allow one who is so beautiful

To continue to do this to to me?

That which undergirds this last lesson

If I do ten more days in this pergatory

I shall never call this desolate space a blessing

When all I  have to hold on to are memories

I engage like fervent California fire storms

Yet flow like Ahmed's oil passionate artistry

Of your beauty, your smile, your grace

If there is any mercy in your construct of justice

Take me back I pray

Take me back Dear Lord

To the visage of her at 

The Enchantment


Unh . . . unh . . . unh

As Yet Untitled 1001 by H.L. Nichols

© Copyright 2006. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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