part 2...

raining
the storm
thunder, lightning
clothes sticking
on the skin
you cannot shed

she still makes your bed
and I know in the back
of your head that she's dead
that you know the sled
pulled by her thread
will stop ahead
when soul has fled

and where will
a cold chill
find you up
or down a hill
where you've been left
weight shoulders heft

prior blazing trail
by others who've failed
seems simple, so walk
or plant the beans
and climb a stalk
of your own destiny

each now is how
we define and wow
opportunity plow
earth and sow
seeds that grow
or choose to stow
away the hoe
and find yourself
right down below
alone hierarchy
isn't much of a tree

do not water any lies
weed your garden
kill the flies
no one cares
for maggot kin
only stares
eat shit a sin