It's a mighty harsh driving rain

I’ve no faith that the sun is waiting

mind fogged, eyes waterlogged

and no hope from the anticipating


Raise an empty glass

And toast to a past

That came to an end

Faster than fast


My radio can't find a satellite

so, I'm left here alone with this thought

a dangerous place, you can see from my face

and the pain with which it is fraught


We’re just nine meals from anarchy

And I have met the enemy

It is me, the enemy

It is me


Penitentes formed by strong winds

blades of a snowy bishop

Or Spanish holy week, it’s penance I seek

For lent, I simply gave up


It matters not how the battle goes,

The day, how long

Faint not! Fight on! Tomorrow comes song

Be Strong, be strong, be strong


I cried with a stranger last night

Was shunned by the one I love

what will I become?

Just another shadow in the sun?


It's a mighty harsh driving rain

I seek faith that the sun is waiting

My mind’s clear, heart sincere

Search for hope in the anticipating

Submitted: April 12, 2023

© Copyright 2023 Phill LoFaso. All rights reserved.

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Phill Phill Phill, I love this... I find it amazing how quickly you became one of my favorite writers on Booksie. This piece has the power, intricacies and is profound. "We're just nine meals from anarchy." Brilliant!

Wed, April 12th, 2023 3:57pm


ah go awwwn...haha, thank you Cigar Guy. I turned it into a song a while ago, but I don't think the people I play with and for get me. But that's okay. We write because we have to. Cheers brother...

Wed, April 12th, 2023 9:14am

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