The Price

By Cliff Lake

 

The Price

 

Having once again had to face the gritty end of empty promise I feel…

What?

Nothing?

Not that.

Everything?

Not at once.

I feel there is a price.

Hers? I’ll not collect.

Mine? I’ll pay myself.

 

To have held and hoped has its inherent beauty;

I know, I’ve bought that light.

I’ve paid in pain and pride,

I’ve paid in lust and laughter.

I’ve paid in insult and innuendo, curses, cries, sex, sweat, sorrow…

What of it?

My complaints profit nothing.

 

The price?

Wisdom?

I’ll do it again.

Avoidance breeds a dusty spirit.

I’ll not die inside my own existence,

I’ll not keep my tears until they dry my soul.

 

The price?

Myself.

I am my own coin.

I’ll pay me.

 

Cliff Lake 1/29/1992

Copyright © Clifford Lake 1992

Location: Meriden, CT, USA

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