To be the poet is really not that much

To be the inspiration
That takes a certain touch.  

I struggle with the words to capture that time. Alone with the vision of you so sublime.

The worse part of  having a muse.
Is that to them you are of no use.

If anyone cared this much about you to focus their day on all that you do.

You would feel so happy, its what you want most . But your eyes are blind to this simple host.

You search so long for someone to hold you dear all the while I'am right here.

My words written here you'll likely never see and the love that I felt will be felt but by me.

Walking into the room where you once resided
There’s an eeriness of seeing your pictures
Your knick knacks
Your clothing
But not you
Our laughter echoes as we try on your fun jewelry
You shine through our smiles as we reminisce
We sift through your belongings
Combing through the years of memories
Feeling your presence in this empty room
Walking through the hallways of this place you knew and loved
You were a celebrity here
Every nurse and patient would smile and say hello
Now we share a solemn smile as we pass by
We see your closest friends together at lunch
Though there seems to be an empty chair
We know you’re there
Always sharing in the good company of others
So many felt your love
So many felt your joy
Now moving through this place
There’s an emptiness
But we know you’re there

I am skeptical of you
How do I trust an *****
That's been so wrong
In times past?

You devil,
Reaching out to hold the hand of a new lover
When you haven't let go of the past

It took a long, long time
But I learned how to turn you off
And now that you're on standby
I don't know if I can trust you

Heart,
Battered by baggage
Beaten to the bone,
Do your nerves still work?

Are you able to discern the inner workings
Of the paramour's heart?
Are we compatible?
Are we in love?

Are we loving each other?
Are you able to be trusted
With our great future?