For a
Alex H.

I was always told
that I would grow old
and ascend into the sky

But lately I've lost faith
in my old, dead wait*
but I no longer lie

Faith has turned to mold
God has been sold
And I no longer believe

Now I no longer waste
Need not to make haste
To find my sweet relief

*Writer’s note: I know it's the wrong use of wait--it's intentional.