A Questioned Chance

A Questioned Chance

Thumbed nose
At the bright red rose
And vile thoughts
At the offered olive branch

A questioned chance

Beliefs are worth their weight in gold
Giving heart back to you ten-fold
And stolen heart is what she holds
I must let go
I must let go

Seeking out, not quite on a whim
Seeing doubt from the hurt within
Void of a chance
Needing escape
Bullet holes
And tempting fate

Searching far, wide and beyond
Sycophant minion, just a pawn
Secure the mast and sail with me
Rising tide upon the sea

And growing weeds surround the rose
To which, with a twitch, she thumbed her nose
I feed the flames with the olive branch

What have you done to earn another chance?

© 2003 John Fontana