TOO MUCH

It's too much of myself
that I give
when I wander from where I stand
in this guise of a man
there's no love
only ghosts of loves gone past.

It's too much of myself
that I lose
each time I choose another alley
disguising my folly
in a haze of love
and a past that never was.

So I pray that I go at last
because
till the sleep wears off my face
and I rise
from the ash
and my mind returns remade, I'm afraid.