Time has done this:

no more a storehouse of vague ideologies

no longer lost in the shuffle of life

no longer angry with things I can’t alter

no longer willing to cultivate strife

no one to blame but myself for my failures

no longer holding that blame like a sword

no more a prison, my mind has been opened

no longer looking for hollow reward

rubbing away at my jagged excuses

wearing away at the tumor of sorrow

Time has forced an attrition of excess

leaving me naked and new for tomorrow.


copyright 2006 rhonda lee richoux

Published by Rhonda Lee Richoux

I am retired from the public school system. I create magic wands and spells, write mediocre poetry and the occasional freelance magazine article; research local history and family genealogy; I’m an activist and keep in touch with friends, family and archenemies on Facebook, Twitter, What’s App and Word Press. I'm a Fiipina-Cajun troublemaker and trickster. I'm feeling as invincible as Keith Richards these days. Fuck is my favorite word.

One thought on “Attrition

  1. It’s the perfect place to be but hope in a moment doesn’t remove future devil’s and the thorns that will bloody our feet. Yes, we must blame ourselves for as much as possible. Afterall, that’s an important part of being an adult, an own person. But never hesitate to cast blame when some arsehole whose wrecking your life deserves it:)

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