Slam 3

I have often wondered if the errors of my youth
Transformed the possibilities of who I've become
Or if the fallacies of my past merely allowed me to
succumb to my present failures easier.
These excuses make me more reclusive
Now I'm clueless as to what the bluest skies reveal
Just like his blue eyes conceal a smile borne of bemusement
I pursue fulfillment without amusement
Hoping it will all eventually come to fruition
But he knows it takes more than ammunition to
get a weapon to fire.
I say "I'm tired." Pretend the consequences are dire.
But he understands into the oblivion of my memories is
the place I want to retire.
And those blue eyes smile and allow me
To retreat into the depths of this existential philosophy
God love that man because he loves me enough
To let go when I ask instead of pretend to be tough.