Late

Foolishly, we wait. Along the roadside of our expectations, we wait for someone to rescue us from our despondency. We wait for the new day to bring the same somethings that have been available to us all along. We wait for a change, to satisfy, with the hope of it staying for more than the familiar sojourn. We wait there, at the shoulder of our … Continue reading Late

Times of Some

Sometimes, it’s the setting sun. It’s the way the tree appears featureless as the light on the horizon, behind her, is leaving for the eve. A silhouette, left in the dark, until the light returns to brighten another day… sometimes.   Sometimes, its the song. Three single notes, pulling the fears from the eyes, as the acoustic speaks what we couldn’t say. Taking all the … Continue reading Times of Some

Descension

Anxiety stricken Beating heart On the verge of falling apart Nerves are shot Sweats and shakes Clinching this disaster as the still ground quakes Try to breathe Close my eyes Nothing works and it’s no surprise Everyone wonders why I’m exhausted now They offer advice but they don’t know how Ease today Doc pushed the pill Come back next month for another bill Pill wouldn’t … Continue reading Descension

Heavy Ways

Heavy is the weight of the trials; the load that is carried throughout the long walk of miles. Heavy is the stressful life we find; those demands and strangling hands of a love lost, never left behind. Heavy is the decision one wishes could have been different; the choice in a moment they are now sickened by, as it fell short of efficient. Heavy is … Continue reading Heavy Ways

Their Futile Rumination

When things are grey, much like the skies over our foreseen days of cabin fever, we look into ourselves. The walls close in. We begin to think of things that aren’t true: Do they care? Do I matter? Why me? Am I as good as I tell myself?   The grey impedes. Shortened days and wearisome nights. Patience restrained. Diving deeper into the abyss of … Continue reading Their Futile Rumination

Days Of Old

I visit the places from the wonder years — around the streets and drives of my past. Down the walks around blocks once journeyed. Somewhere in time, they still last. A bit older and a bit wiser — I long for the days with Dad. He lived in the heart of the city, and now I see why he had. Peaceful and quiet neighborhoods, little … Continue reading Days Of Old