one hour phone calls

bold beyond beige buttons on a black blazer
Goes the saying
No one in particular said
the Way I take my newfound freedom
Throw it into the wishing well
And hope for my chance in the sun.

Sun being that evolutionary goddess
With an ability to warm my inside
Better than my exterior
Who has morphed into the pyramid apex
of What I could desire in another.

Reaping the rewards of the angered realm
Stirring inside
Takes longer than eye or Kay
figured was possible
But I see it, slowly approaching as the mist settles in on my village
It’s a confusing fog
Where my steps are in trust,
Or perhaps desperation,
That they will take me somewhere.