/ Now /
One should know
They are on their own
In this world

You walk the city streets
Others walk by, too
A new avenue approaches
Nobody follows

Shadows of the forgotten
Arise around the buildings
But the shadows don’t follow
They stray by their own

Cars pass
But not tonight
Darkness skews the shining moon
Of all things passing by

Those inside remain
In small rooms and
Empty screens
Yet you march on

The ghosts of years ago
Drain your breath
Into violent coughs
And heavy inhales

The shadows
That did not follow
Now return
Around other boulevards

They meet you
On cracked sidewalks
When you don’t expect
Any pain

Now buildings tumble
Sharp rocks fall
On cracked sidewalks
Opening an abyss

/ Then /
Shadows flail
In windy paths
And
You were missing

Looking out on a long day
The reminders of those left behind
Or rather
Those who moved on

Few have stayed in sync
Others left over time
Straying from the regular
Old stagnant still Stop

The ones who stayed
Were not the corrupt
It was the ones who left
Who thought their independence
Would follow

Instead it stuck behind
Straying from the same
Old stagnant still Stop
Awaiting to be picked up
By another

The body left the way
Nobody followed
Nothing traveled along
Except stationary objects
That would dissolve into ashes

No friends walked with
They were alone
Their followers revert from a new line
You were nothing

It’s OK to miss a friend
The one who is gone
Locked away in the wind

It’s alright to feel that pain
You forgot it once before
Now is the time to do it again

That stressed love that never mattered
The pressure to pursue an empty heart
Instead of waiting to see how your story ends

Patience is a virtue
But the true virtue is desire
To want the world to revolve in slow motion

Our plans don’t wait for us
But people
How ignorant
As long as tides turn
They cease

But some remain on shore
Refusing to go adrift
Repeating softly to themselves
Try me.

Sitting, patiently – in the street
A special figure she plans to meet
Over and over of shuffling cars
A man steps out, ready to greet

Standing quite tall – in draping dress
A man unowned and speaking less
His arms reach out like open bars
To fix once more the grateful mess

Talking through – in straight line
Of all the moments she said ‘it’s fine’
Bottled up in empty jars
Wondering why there was no sign

Rolling hills – inside the cave
Never once was she this brave
Letting emotions take more control
As she left her words at his grave

On the same beach a notebook is blank
What was written, it seems
Has sank

Even the message will fail to live on
The ink has been erased from the page
It’s gone

The paper soaked, waves blared
Equally as if
No one cared

The writer, herself, has left it alone
To be forgotten in the storm
The low of the unknown

 

A storm as big as a wave
Commencing over itself in time
Pressing loudly in massive form
The sea as a musical chime
Deciding on who to save

She sat atop the dense rock
This was hidden through the trees
It was often dark in there
Nature was all she sees
Eyes set on wooden dock

So much does not matter
On the ink laid upon her hand
Her written truth comes out
Arising from the dirt sand
Climbing up the ladder

Commanding the tide is her key
With pen in hand and wet feet
Dawning on the sunset new
She wonders when her life will meet
She writes once more “you and me”

Simple sickness
Living in hearts
It is called a cold
Very young it starts

Heavy, holding
The headache on high
Aching, swelling
Dropping down from the sky

The simple falter
Multiple times a year
Ultimate pain
Fringing in fear

Floating, withering
That dreadful headache on high
Confident in struggle
Not the least bit shy

Even when physique
Is in top gear
The head still pounds
Like a frightening shear

The mentality it holds
Aided by the pill
Is not a sickness at all
If the person remains still

That damned emotion it seems
Is blocked by the minds
That the headache on high
It touches and finds

Reaching further inside
It goes deeper it seems
Growing vastly enough
The headache on high beams

When it finally leaves
To return another day
The headache on high
Finds its next prey

The window only opens half-mass
As he lays in his bed – sweating, panting
He looks to his left to view an empty glass.
Was it the big one or small one?
Or was it the thought?
But the memories are gone . . .
He had said this a lot.

He cannot say much
He feels no ways
But as his thoughts take over . . .
The harder he lays.

It’s an equal weight,
But an uneven bar
Because the burden of most
Isn’t seen from afar.

Many have felt it
But few have lived with
I cannot see the impact
Of saying it’s a myth.

It won’t end tonight
Or tomorrow . . . but when?
He can only wonder
As the room begins to spin.

Further – further
From life he goes
Into the shadows,
Nobody knows.

Gone – gone
Erased from the past
Everything is over
Done at last.

When something new starts
He thinks of why
Before does not matter
And the result is a cry.

Time to let go
Distance to forget
Enough with the thoughts
Extinguish the amends.

Back to bed now
Where there is only mind
A whole day is next
Time to rewind.

Forgive it all
The thoughts that abound
Forgive it all
Light shall come around.

 

The people are monsters,

Traders alike

The people are angry,

At me one night

The people are crazy,

And don’t know about love

The people are cold,

Like the mighty black dove

They don’t understand

My connection with her

The people are evil,

The people are heard.