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Michael Stefan Apr 2020
your face appears
in each glassy hallway
labyrinthine memories
blue eyes reflected
to my own
your sweet smile
juxtaposed
against my aged face
each shaking finger
wanting to cup your chin
but only touching
cold & flat
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
Never let her see your scars
They draw a wretched map
Bright pink lines of roads you've traveled
Etched on you until exsanguination
Leading to nowhere in particular
Until you met her

Always cake the make-up on
To fill in deeply carved crags
You don't want him to say goodnight
To tomorrow's yesterday
As your tears smear mascara
While he walks the shortest way out

Always meet them under the willow tree
The lighting hits you just right
And you want to be just right
Even as you stand
On the shallow graves, you've dug
For all your ghostly skeletons
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
we are all students
distracted drawing doodles
rapt for the last bell
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
I am filled with rage and pain
I am filled with longing and loss
I am filled with the human condition
It is just as it was
I am filled with you
And all your weaknesses
And you are filled with mine
We are locked in static displays
Pointing fingers like kids at zoos
With little hope
For you to actually see
What's inside of me
I always found it hard
To see what's inside of you
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
Rippling, budding, blooming flowers
Wave in soft and gentle breeze
Caressing with hint of winter chill
Bitter through my hair

Sun shining and bright above
Forecasting springtime rains
Which reach the fields and hearts
In cold clear cloudy morning

We gather for the Springwind
blowing remnants of winter passing
Frost replaced with dewdrops
Pitter-patter on softened soil

Creaking of the great tall trees
Reached high into the azure sky
Like boney finger dotted landscape
As snow removes its glove

Green shimmering carpet
Covers land with moss and grass
Flowers, brush, and dandelions
Show life fed from below

The Springwind is the sign of life
Earth's signal we all start anew
Tantalizing and wiping our memory
Of impending Autumn's fall
Michael Stefan Apr 2020
'Oh, for tools of humankind
  Be rage and machines of war
    For fires to burn of heavens
      And grace be lost in clang of anvil

'Oh, for tools to take
  That which belongs to none
    The tangling of wicked souls
      Seen on faces of the empty

'Oh, for tools in usage
  Forged in fires burning blue
    Make paths away from redemption
      And build infinite worlds, absent grace
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