All I’ll ever be
Is money
And their problem
Though my family
Argues otherwise
Despite
Such wasted
Space

With alms
I sadly take
At the table
Of these burdens
Crossing knives
Intently
While envisioning
How they cut

Letting
Blood redeem
Those debts
Incurred when drinking
Thick charity
As it wobbles
In my hands
So weak from nerves

Fidgeting
Nearly sick
Shaking my leg
Discretely
Above these
Wooden floorboards
Atop this seat
Which bends

On legs
Withstanding weight
Of a thousand
Senseless reasons
Running through
My memory
Where sacrifice
Hurts me more

Accepting
Love resists
That image of
Truest failure
Regardless
Of this feasting
For a cause
They’ve nearly lost –

A future
Worth belief
From prayers
To find my solace
As I pace
Alone toward answers
Too sad
For making sense

Letting words
Destroy
What purpose
Drives these feelings
Proving
Happy endings
Don’t come for
Lazy hearts.

– J. Pigno