.
     ...is a fragile little thing,
     that most tend to overlook.
     Small word with a **** big meaning.
     Some may uphold it; some may
     conveniently have it mistook...

Trust...
     ...is in the grasp of the unknown
     stranger,
     that helps you up when you've fallen
     down.

Trust...
     ...is the pact between you and the cab
     driver,
     as he takes you to where you want to
     be, across town.

Trust...
     ...the bough on which your swing does
     sit.
     Pray that it doesn't break as you enjoy
     its joyous ride.

Trust...
     ...your cook, hoping in your food he
     doesn't spit...
     Especially when you've provided
     feedback that scuffed his pride.

Trust...
     ...lays exposed when the keys to your
     house you surrender,
     to your neighbour who'd keep an eye
     while you're away on a retreat.

Trust...
     ...exists latent in the open palm of your
     caregiver...
     As a child you'd take his hand so he'd
     ferry you safely across the street.

Trust...
     ...is the unspoken oath that I had thought
     we both held sacred...
     When I spilled the contents, my heart
     couldn't bear much longer.

Trust...
     ...meant nothing when you took it all for
     granted,
     when you weakened and succumbed...
     ...and then shared with another...

never trust a poet's words
they sound sweet at first
but you'll notice the emotion in their words
it all sounds too...
fake
"i love you like the sea loves the shore"
becomes too scripted
you hear the small tinge of love actually left in their voice
hoping
hoping it could mean something
but it doesn't
it never does
it's just the way they say it
one day, after they have left
you will find their poems, and they will be the exact words that they had said to you
once long ago

When did I stop trusting you?
I didn't even notice it.
When did I stop listening,
start thinking you were full of it?

Convinced I'd heard it all before,
read all the writing on the wall.
I'd smile, and nod, then close the door.
I won't believe you anymore.

Why did I stop trusting you?
I never even wanted to.
The sky, it just turned inside out
when I first lent my ear to doubt.

Acceptance by friends is most kind
given they don’t know my mind
even as the questions reign
traditions felt in harsh complaint

ill intent is not the goal
as reactions come and go
when the source defies a life
expectations become a lie

those deviations from the norm
presented to a perplexed world
are only measured in this way
while self verity defines my day

the combination may instruct
by actions lived the deal is struck
acceptance offered in the storm
revelation as worlds are turned.

© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20191205.

A poet is no more than a person
A mother
A daughter
A lover  
Someone needing release
Or someone needing to recover


It’s the art they create when that ball of ink or stick of led dances on the canvas they so perfectly prepared.
And when the end result and their purpose become perfectly paired.

My heart trembles when she thinks of...
The cold, the fear, the fear of cold.
A weak muscle with strong impulse.

Longing to be with you, my heart.
Fluttered far from here, hiding,
In a place I cannot reach,
I wait for you,
I wait for you,
As you wait for me.

Why have you left me, my heart?
I can see you, now,
Trembling in the hollow ground,
Covered in the cold, cold, cold,
You wait for me,
You wait for me,
As I wait for you.

Unity is a concept never meant for us, my heart.
We will forever be split, torn
...Tormented