The White Rocking Chair

The forgiving heart never counts the 

number of your mistakes,

But it's easy to shatter its hopes.

You can silence the innocence but

How are you going to shut the whispers

 of ghosts from your pasts?

You bathe in the holy waters of your victims.

Your insane mind croon in your praises.

How is it that you feel empty for others

And manage to do everything to satisfy your hunger.

I hate it when you sit in your favorite white rocking chair smoking your cigar with serenity in your eyes.

Your greedy soul empathizing with the needs of your thirsty flesh.