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 May 6 Gustavo G
lia
I say I’m fine,
It’s just easier that way,
No questions asked,
No truth to betray.

I smile and nod,
While I’m breaking inside,
Too scared to speak,
So I run and hide.

I’m tired of lying,
Tired of pain,
Wishing this silence
Would wash away like rain.
I can’t keep it in anymore and I know it. But I just can’t speak out the words.
When I sit alone,
Someone will ask, “Can I use this chair?”
Then carry it to another table
To laugh with friends over there—
Leaving me, still and silent,
Closed off like a clam.
Have you ever felt like this?
 May 1 Gustavo G
B C Stan
To be loved is not a virtue
To be hated is not a sin
don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.

be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain

who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.

juggling mates
and
attitudes

their
confusion is
constant

and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.

beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."

and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God

for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.

don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone

for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.

I am a dog walking
backwards

I am a broken
banjo

I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio

I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.

put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.

— The End —