Sultry air rids my apathy, The horizon screens my regrets, My matinee of rectification. I think of my mistakes in life. Lost like a Catholic confession, Caught between the lattice slats of redemption, Needing forgiveness like a pasture needs a locust. My inner self is newfangled, I am anew, And all because I chose inner peace, Instead of loving you. Blinded in the eye of calm, I see a cloistered grizzled man, Feeding breadcrumbs to a quiet pavement, And see who I would have become.