That old guy I know
That's you
I've watched you
Grow old and age
I always wondered
When your black hair
Would turn gray
It did eventually.
Why couldn't I have black hair?

Now you take
A whole arsenal of medication
And your kideys gave up
I bet your liver
Functions on pure anger
And you're only still here
Because you're too scared to die

I think I'd miss you.
Even though we share
A wide range of genetic information
You have never been around
Never reached out
Even though you could hear me cry
Never looked up
While I basically hung up side down.

I still love you
The only person I ever trusted
To never let me fall.
Granted you never saw me fall
Because you never
Wanted to look
That's ok
I never missed having a dad
I'm not even sure I know
What that means

I'm not resentfull
I know you enjoy my antics
That you love the crazy **** I pull
That I could tell you anything
Because you are probably worse
That I can make fun of you
Pins and needles
And that you know
That that's just me saying
I love you

Without ever really saying it
Because I know
That it would make you cry.
I know how hard it is for you
When I hug you
When I kiss you
When I curl up against you.
It makes you cry
Because it reminds you
Of  a time when you knew
You were worthy of such affection.

I just wish you hadn't
Changed your last name.
Now it's different from mine.

tachyphylaxis - tach·y·phy·lax·is (tāk'ə-fĭ-lāk'sĭs)  n.
1.    A rapidly decreasing response to pleasure following initial administration.

I didn’t know this
demon had a name.
Ugly as it is it fits,
a random mish-mash
of unpleasant sounds
and equal unpleasantness
felt.

I’ve known the *******
forever, manifest in vitamin cures
and psychological processes,
SSRI’s and stabilizers.

He attends to the end of
affectionate loving and all
the designer vacations
you've ever taken.

He is the golden handcuffs of
square foot home ownership
and his business cards are
set in silver.

To put it bluntly
his continuous presence
is intent on destruction
of any contentment.

He is all things along the way
that appear so promising at first
but never last.

Synonymous with tolerance,
antonymous with precedence,


the antagonistic leaven of all living.

She loved him as if she rode on a carousel
the enchantment, the dream, the fleeting reality
of him sitting a distance from her.
No matter how much they moved,
she didn't know how to reach him
or to catch up with him.
Because once the ride ends
she has to grow up and leave,
stepping out into a world
where she's no longer the princess
and he's no longer her prince.
...
To have loved you and have left,
I will never be sure if the time will come
for me to love you again.
But I know the magic will be there
every time "I see you in the night sky
and hear your laughter in the stars"--
that I will always remember.
You don't have to be in front of me
and I don't have to see you
for us to know I love you.
Because "it is with the heart that is essential
but is invisible to the eye".
...
I love you, my prince.
And no matter how many moons are out there,
you're the first I have ventured to and admired from afar:
that make's you my moon.

I am an American.
Proud to be called one.
When the flag goes by
Chills still creep over me.
Even after seventy plus years.

Many have died
Defending her name.
Defending the rights
Given by The Bill of Rights.
Freedom is definitely not free.

I ask my grandson when he was four
"What does that flag
hanging on the wall mean?"
He replied "Freedom".

Many have died
When stupid politicians
Ran the wars against us
Not the Generals who had the knowledge.

Eight years ago I remember clearly
someone we all know say;
"For the first time in my life
I am really proud of my country. "
Very disturbing words
I shall never forget.

Let us honor those who
have gone on before us.
Let us never forget
what we have and still stand for.
Let us stand and be counted.

For Freedom. Liberty. And much more.

My heart is heavy as we sit idlely by
watching all slip down the drain.

Music is my isolation
It protects me from a world of frustration

After all other ways have fail. When violence and anger accomplish nothing. When the drugs can no longer **** the pain. What is left out there? In a state of hopelessness, a wear soul contemplates the unthinkable. What is one less person they think. In that moment of desperation, a glimmer of hope sparks to life. A kind word or a gesture is remembered. The seed of hope has been sewn, perhaps in an inadvertent way. By someone who speak of Jesus, or did his command. Kindness has opened the door where hope was lost and shown that perhaps there is another path.

As the sun rises and the world awakens, a host of new possibilities are realized. The night has passed and the weariness of yesterday has been shed. Tired eyes awaken to the sounds of life anew. The script has not been written as to what might occur. The day is a blank slate waiting for someone to set the scene. Embrace the morning and all of the promise that it brings.