Alas! YOU have arrived
To soak up my words
May you drink them in
Delight in them
For they were penned for YOU
I know not your name
Nor will I see your face
But, you were on my mind when I wrote them

I knew you would come one day

And be touched by these few words
Not yesterday, not tomorrow, instead today
How was I to know the time
The timing I leave to you

I am just glad you came

Its never too late to proceed
For the words in my poems
Are meant for just the right moment
Filling a need
Easing some pain
Perhaps they turn your frown upside down

That is why ...

I continue to write

And ...

YOU continue to read

A young boy embraces life, fearless!
He knows NOT the pain that's coming.
He lives, for now, in his cocoon

protected

Years go by, protection is lifted.
The world seeps through the cracks
introducing fear and self-doubt.

His once free-spirit, wanes!
He waits for loving words,

They
       rarely
                 come

What does come, often with intensity,
Are words and actions validating humanity's darkness.
Pressing into him, bringing crushing pain.
Stabbing his heart, his tender heart!

Slowly, without realizing,
he retreats from this world.
Loneliness becomes his

playmate

A cruel playmate for sure.

Now as a grown man,
He finds himself shy, tentative.
Lessons revealed and learned.

You pass him on the street,
None of his tenderness appears,
His heart tucked away,

protected!

He fears exposing even one more time,
The part of him that's most vulnerable.
His tender heart.

Better to just leave it hidden ...

And
   you
      boast
         how
            you
            won't
         dislike
      death,
   only
dying

Despair is a tight suit to wear
Even inhaling is restricted
Lungs imploding from the weight
Not of happiness or hate

Void of feeling, I'm reeling, then kneeling
Family and friends offer comfort
I just brush them aside
How can I let anyone inside?

Dare I end this night with slumber
Before this fear can delight
I must will the sun to rise
For there isn't much hope at the end of a rope ...

I would give up my sight,
So you could see how beautiful you are.
I would give up my hearing,
So you could hear all the nice things people say about you.
I would give up my heart,
So you could love your self.
I would give up my voice,
So you could say you love your body.
I would give up my mind,
So you could think about the good things and not the bad.
I would give up every part of me if it would help you.

All of the shining mad ones
With their heresies of reality
And other visions and other voices
Are not diminished
By the multitude of choices
That is their truth
Upon each waking day

They are woken by the howl
From beyond the first ear
And into the deeper mind
Where there is other language
And blinding colours of emotion
For madness has the purity of pain
That martyrs can only long for

                                           By Phil Roberts

Just because you're deep in thought,
doesn't mean your thoughts are deep.

Just because you're lost in dreams,
doesn't mean you're losing sleep.

Things are always what they seem,
except for when they aren't.
Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear to be,
if you know what I mean;
clearly blurry and vaguely crystalline.

Anyway, I'm hungry.
Let's go get a cheeseburger or something.