I could write of cheer, happiness and joy,
About a victorious game, or a brand new toy,
But to do so would be to lie.

I could write of the depths of misery,
Once again venture to that deep, grey sea,
But to do so would be to lie.

Today
Was just a day
And for once, that's not so bad.

By my own will, I am undone,
This truth I cannot deny.
Sins that I cannot condone
Run rife in me as I continue to cry
About ev'ry misstep I've taken
In this life I've long since forsaken.

Dreams of love, success, and joy,
All these things are nothing now.
As fate befell the walls of Troy,
So too am I laid low.
Though now I can hardly see your face,
I pray you take me to your warm embrace.

Away from the troubles of this world I see,
Where the wishes of the poets and dreamers
Are trampled underfoot of wishes to be free
Of the sycophants and their schemers,
Take me where my troubles seem large,
And hold me there, let me recharge.

Then, finally, when all is light,
When my body feels akin to a feather,
Take me away on your sunset flight
To a land I need not weather.
Hold my head close to your chest,
And praise me for trying my best.

You look the same as you always have.

So why does my heart beat so fast?

I thought myself stronger.

But none can be.

Love.

It
Truly
Is
Stronger
Than
Every

Single


One



Of

­


Us

A fictional home,
In a fictional town,
Walls and fences made of data,
Without any tangible meaning.

Yet it's here it happens
Without fail, every time,
My eyes fall on the mat on the floor,
And they grow misty with tears.

Faulted over and over
For making a personal sacrifice
What, exactly, turns your glare so dark?
Do you see an insult or a takeover?
Or do you think this is some meaningless vice,
Just the beginning of an inferno's first spark?

Neither of us is happy here.
What part of that is unclear?

A pit far deeper than I know
Is all I care to measure now.
Am I destined to mourn so?
Too many things I choose to disavow.
Yet, I'm fully aware of this.
Why must I embrace this abyss?

Sometimes my words flow easily and free
Yet this past week I've been stunted and vapid.
I find myself disappointed in me,
Wishing for a recovery too rapid.

My words have been small, I'll admit that
But they're all still words that I mean.
Even if my poetry is flat,
I hope my heart can be seen.