A day later, Albert still laying on his back.
The sky shifted and upended in its mood,
It moved from a still to a crawl to attack,
As the sun bore into Alberts eyes drew.

There was no sights to be had as they closed now unseen.
Paintings of life in the ill mannered dark
Dread and the feelings of anxiety it could bring.
A single point of hope at an insignificant spark.

The weepings and moanings of a woman in the light.
Unknown and just heard as Alberts eyes held shut.
"Why do you hate me master. For your whip to scar so tight?
I can't stand why it is me you would cut.

I can't be here, I can't stand it. I cannot believe I was so dumb.
To think a thing such as I could be loved.
Were I a more courageous woman with fortitude to come.
I would end my life and see my parents above."

Albert heard the words, he heard them quite clear.
They pierced his heart like bullets shot close.
While love of others meandered, it would mingle and steer.
To him and this woman, it glared on as its foes.

Albert exhausted from hunger and in dire straits.
He clicked and he cracked as his voice at a choke.
The unduly silence was met in its pace.
As the woman into the river would go.

And Albert turned his head, he looked at the ****.
Of the water made open by her gait.
He felt and he hoped, with his heart in a trash.
This woman would not die in the waters gate.

But the quiet would linger and the bubbles would stop.
He felt darkness crawl into his heart.
Alberts eyes would close promptly as he began to sob.
And the moment of this cold depart.

Suddenly! He disappeared from view as a wish was made.
The baby boy had crossed to the sea.
And again he appeared with soppy woman bade,
"Wake up" as no words left his mouth would be.

He stared on with blank thoughts and a feeling of empty,
He layed on his belly and watched her eyes cry.
The death she had wanted and prayed as a plenty,
And why she had come back on the grass, "Why.

Why am I breathing.  Why can I see.
Why is my body so tired."
The end that would befall, the end that couldn't be.
As by Alberts strength, her life is not retired.

But he watched and he waited.
She lay and she cried.
There eyes met and she was sated.
By her baby savior she relied.

"Hahaha! How? How could you do it? How could you save me like that?
It's not possible but no one is here and I'm here.
Baby boy, what have you done to keep me on this flat?
I don't understand. I don't get why you would care."

Albert could not speak as he was an infant, but his eyes,
His eyes betray the calm delay to emotion of an adult.
From words spoken, to feelings taken to what we use as a guise.
Albert shifted his view to the water, than back without fault.

"Can you... Understand me?"
Albert without thinking nodded his head.
The woman sat with cynicism underneath that tree.
Mind on her matter over the dumb words she said.

"I don't know if you can but I'm sorry.
I'm sorry you saw me do that.
I don't want anyone to see me and worry.
I'm strong and these feelings I combat."

As she lied to him, Albert understood and did not fight.
He did not cry nor laugh nor believe her absurd.
His heart tore at her words so sincere in there bite.
Of emotions unshared, Of horrors unheard.

I think the reason I find it difficult.
To get over you.
My favorite part of the past we built.
Was talking the day through.

I could listen to your aspirations forever.
And how we charted course.
Through the life once pointed at me, now sever
Its love from her source.

As time grew on, I found courage to speak.
Words from a darker time.
And work through to meet you at the peak.
You with me, our hearts design.

I loved to hear you talk of your life.
I adored to hear your thoughts.
And the goals you set at such a height.
They dazzled me to know of sorts.

And now you're gone. But I...
I only wish you could have known me.
From weeks, from months and from years went by.
A lot changed over the open sea.

I am a new person, an ever changing enigma.
And my love for you, boundless as the story you sing.
To know me now, when I held that stigma.
Oh, what skeptical words you would bring!

Beckon the lost soul.
Come to where we lay the wreath.
For your endless pain.
Reward the end of your grief.

And Albert moved on through the sky.
Where choirs of angels sang.
"O' joy welcome, the soul" they cry.
"Welcome Albert" their voices rang.

"To the kingdom of heaven you come,
Bearing tidyings of love to him on his throne,
Where his glory will fill your heart, strong one,
Come, to the kingdom of heaven, rest so,"

And the angels, with their robes and halos,
they viewed Albert as a noble son to be praised.
Their faces, like his, like the humans that lay low,
Beneath, as his beloved, ripped from him stays.

And on an endless expanse of white, Albert steps.
The singing lows to a hum as he walks.
To a small gate, like the one to eden I suspect.
Where an old man waits at the fork.

"Not many people see this young man,
you are here to be judged for your sins."
"And of the crowd, around, are they part of this plan?
To see my past before me, torn out from within."

Click, his fingers went and the angels were gone.
In a blink they had left from his sight.
"I don't enjoy hurting a fragile man, so calm,
be calm and don't worry, nor fight.

I am merely an observer who listens and will speak,
I suspect you're a man who tried his best.
I have faith you will be given a chance at the peak,
To enter. Now, to the rest."

Albert clenched and unclenched his fists, but did not find the strength,
to move from one spoke to the next.
To pass on from this life, and move to the penthouse.
And take his place in the eternal breast.

"What is your name?" the man asked.
"Albert, and yours?" "I am Peter.
I am serving as the eyes for the kingdom of heaven.
And for you, consider me your praetor."

"Like an administrator?" Albert asked, his eyes feigning interest.
"Exactly! Like one of those with a process to follow."
"I see." Albert said. And with that, he was silent.
And Peter began, aware of Alberts heartfelt sorrow.

"You are guilty of many, but proven false in none.
Your story is not one to be ridiculed or held,
In contempt, I find you quite lacking,
To love, I see in your body given to dwell."

Albert began. "I have betrayed, I have hurt, I have lied.
I have done nothing to deserve a place amongst the stars.
I feel I have done everything wrong in my life.
There is nothing to be proud in those memoirs."

"If your story were different, I would agree.
For now I can say that's not true.
But arguing is a game for fools on the ground.
So, with passage, to heaven I grant to you.

With serenity you accepted your mothers cruel words.
With courage you faced a fathers wrath.
Your own friends, you decried, but you fought and you loved.
And to their fates, I have no kind words, for what they have."

An angel believes that Albert is worth saving.
Albert believes he is wrong.
And even Peter could not stop this fate that was caving,
Into a hole in Alberts mind made unsound.

But Peters eyes had risen to above.
As a single black form in the white.
Was looking back down, unflinching to he,
who would judge those souls on their flight.

And he raised his hands as his the angels had appeared.
Their armour clinched up in the beyond.
And a flash of darkness, stole sight from the heavens.
And Albert appeared by a pond.

The end was not there.
The flight was at an end.
From where had Albert been thrown?

To the confusing becoming,
of a baby lay bear,
Albert, on his back all alone.

"Where did he go?"
The one who asked the question.
He does not believe it so.
That he should move to the next section.

From the heart of a mother.
To the love of the son.
And the bond of his father.
Brought together into none.

Albert did not live and love,
from the beginning of his life he kept,
And himself was made safe through the rough.
Only by himself, for himself had he wept.

And when he was known to be gone.
There was almost no one to weep.
And the few who shed tears, some.
They knew his broken heart would not beat.

It had lived with a hole,
so open and bleeding.
And in his words, it did show.
A friend to hold it closed he was needing.

And the books in his house were of adventure.
The thoughts on his head were of struggle.
His poems published online of indenture,
That his unwell mind was mired in trouble.

And they spoke of a girl he once knew.
And the investigator, most likely, he thought.
"I think Albert took his life, and he threw.
And with that, a lot of trouble for us he brought."

Albert never wanted to bring others trouble.
But it seemed he couldn't help it, even when away.
And as the papers were brought to a file and wrapped in a bundle.
The case was brought to an end that day.

But Albert was alive and with a stumble.
He was here now, he was here to stay.

I am a complicated human being.
I have been called cruel.
But I wasn't born this way.

I have been criticized and made into impossible situations.
Made certain to never trust the ones I love.
Gifted social awkwardness that stems the branch.
From a group of friends who didn't want to associate with me.

I didn't make the choice to be a ****.
I just had parts of me that were pressed and forced into it.

I am an anxious person.
Called weird, alone, unattractive and lazy.
And only my huge ego could weather the storm of those opinions.
I grieve the humble kid who couldn't survive the abuse.

I am a complicated human being.
Made complicated by difficult circumstances.
And in the end, I hurt a lot of people.
I made a lot of people very uncomfortable and blamed them for it.

I lied and I cheated.
I hurt and I blamed.

I don't curse you for not wanting to be in contact with me.
But I think I know why.
That you no longer love me, that I will never stop loving you.
I was a bad attachment, while you were precious to me.

And a toxic man is easier let go than a caring woman.

I'm a better man now.
I can trust and defuse difficult situations.
In addition, I study and continue drawing insights.
I've a great worldview and have not found inconsistencies.
I accept, let live and care deeply.

It would have been great to go on a few fun dates!
The me of now is a bit better at these situations.
I still struggle with many things, but my achievements long outweighed them.
My feelings have not changed.

You are the reason I am a better man.
I think it's a little odd that your absence was the initiator of it.
But maybe it was a catalyst in a brew already awaiting reaction.
And if I never see you again, my value for you will never expire.

It's the water in the lake.
and the waves crashing in the sea.
Where multiples and coefficients dance.
And the world turns around to laugh at me.

What makes bluebirds spur to fly.
And spiders crawl into the dark.
The comfort brought from a loved ones touch.
And their desire to never be apart.

Where the tide rose and eroded the shore
Remain the furrows of you and their long depart.
Clinging on, the desperate soul weeps.
For the hopes and dreams of a cruel heart.

In a place he did not know, the birds sang out.
Where Albert lay still, clear amongst the reeds.
Hurling the thoughts in his head as they moved on about.
Mind the small human as one amongst the seeds.

On the side of a lake that tranquil waves cross.
A man of wonder moved and crossed his path.
"Here you go Albert from where I did toss,
From the starry heavens into this earthy strath.

You cannot speak now as you cry little babe.
But your story is not as bad as it seems.
And you will do as I speak, by my right you are swayed.
From eternity in bliss to a life in the weeds.

I have a goal to achieve, and I hope you can help.
But enough of that now for the time will come too.
And time, I have, for you to grow from a young whelp.
Because still I know, life will keep driving you.

Now I want you... To remember what it is you had lost.
And liven your spirits for this is not the end.
For my purpose you live on, this life your resource.
Though you will probably fail and from this will descend."

Abert listened to the words with protest then so still.
As the dawn of understanding met closely his eyes.
The wetness of his cheeks, the sadness so fill,
And unwillingness to accept this man and his lies.

But like the wind on the hills, he disappeared to the greater.
"I am Loki." though this name served to none,
but a passing thought right now, an obsession  for later.
Albert waited as his body cried out for someone.

Anyone to hear, to care and to hold.
With grateful irony he giggled into his new life.
His needs unmet now, the same as his old.
And he remembered, he remembered his pain so rife.

"Brian and Kate. Where were you today?"
The old Albert had asked knowing the answer.
The answer was away, hidden and not to say.
As Albert was left all alone in that manner.

"We were hanging out. What are you doing?"
The emptiness in Albert grew at what he had heard.
The woman he loved and the times he spent cooing,
And his best friend still along with her words.

"I was hoping to hang out. I had another fight today.
My father and I will no longer talk.
The path he is on and mine long since fray.
We no longer by each other will walk.

I'll be around but not so much.
Consider my time with you here has been taken.
And without parents will be alone as such.
And I am still a little worried and quite shaken."

Albert felt the hug of his friend, the warmness of her arms.
And the hug of a man he began to hate.
The times of this abandonment played as alarms.
And he had believed the pain in this dream to be fate.

Albert did not want to relive his memories true.
Even in the afterlife they cut into his heart, so deep.
And just one of these felt, but many more will too.
Of the void carried on inside him to keep.

I had a dream of you.
This was different.
In it you snubbed me and acted as if I didn't exist.
In a place I don't know.

It made me hurt.
That dream is our reality right now and onwards.
It may seem obsessive, but I am still grieving us.
I don't feel that loss of you going away anytime soon.

But I will stop writing poems about you.
I had a thought as my heart broke for the thousandth time.
That I had done my best with the tools I had.
That a relationship without a future has no need for a past.

I'm sorry for everything.

And he walked. He entered the dim night.
On a still dare to clear his head.
Thoughts and anxiety bound and tight.
He moved as if knowing that he had been misled.

The bright town of shimmering lights.
The cars that bleed into the street.
Focus past from thoughts on heights.
To the walkers and ghosts that move on the creep.

Albert brooded through the park he walked.
"Falks Ave" where stood his homestead.
Clothed and hidden, his own head distraught,
Thoughts left unsought, words left unsaid.

Where eyes of musty grey show might,
And intimidate the passerby refuse to look,
Upon him, a man of ultimately dim sight,
Friends left unmade, hearts left unshook.

He sees a memory of his own and quickly looks away.
As the shade of a man who already knows his past.
That the history of his lost heart and his present lead astray,
Wounds left untended, Love left ungrasped.

The sound of a train moves distantly so.
Albert sits at a bench and huddles in the cool.
"I don't wish to be here, and yet I still go.
To soothe my soul by looking as a ghoul.

Lonely and cross at what I can't know.
Thinking if I stay here forever, I'll be in the ground.
But I just don't understand why it happened to me."
Help left ungiven, Answers left unfound.

His eyes assess his condition.
The park at his back, the road to his front.
He thinks of an old superstition.
That maybe he just wasn't enough.

That life simply moved as fates hands dictate.
And he is but a puppet being played on his string.
To move through pain and pleasure in his state.
To ultimately be gifted with a gods own blessing.

And then the world shook.
And he didn't know anything.

In a world of adults
Happiness is not always good
Sadness is almost never bad
Love is all in.

In a world of adults
My drawings are stories waiting to be animated
My songs are for money
Enjoyment is king to a happy life

In a world of adults
The heart is most important
Mind your head or be struck down
Your soul is above all

In a world of adults
What people say about you doesn't matter
Until it makes you feel uncomfortable
So speak back! Or you're at fault.

In a world of adults
The past will never leave you.
The future will grow dim.
And most people are morons

In a world of adults
You will know friendship when it happens.
It is natural.
Unless you struggle to express yourself. Then give up.

In a world of adults
The rules are absolute
You should have always known
But people left you and now you know

In a world of adults
Progress is stunted
Kids are raised without being told the truth
And they are blamed for it


I am at fault for my ignorance
In this world of adults
I wish to have never been born
I wish to have never been seen

In my world, I am its only inhabitant.
Bearing the wisdom of an adult, only to be wasted.
Tossed about like dust in the wind.
Filed away like notes on an ex.

"Reg, J

From where I sit, you seem troubled.
An affording further, thee,
Your heart belongs to another.
And yet you temper to remember she.

With whom there was a love.
A love, of which you lost.
And yet breath, of memories no more.
Sprinkled with **** and you call it gloss.

You bear such trouble, such aimless need,
For one of whom hates you so.
But death is such a boring end!
I want to know how far you'll go.

So I make an offer, I won't lie.
Find me where eyes are lathed in greed.
And I will appear to you, but once.
And arm you with what you need.

To run your foolish errand.
And continue your forsaken goal.
When me and my brothers laugh at you.
And how much suffering will take its toll.

O' cursed soul, how much I see you weep.
But know this idiotic cause quite just.
Because the divine will blame you as the world cannot take you."

The final line of this poem is lost.

Vibrant mitochondria.
Stretching from the dark.
Action a bad idea.

Memory haze.
Into the fiery depths.
I grudge on in chains.

More than a life.
Pine trees ask where she is.
Miserly moving through most nights.

A kind idiot asks "why?"
Without future, I need no past
To where desolation lay, I do not shy.

Here we find her grave.
Onerous and false.
Where I remember and find what to save.

So, my personal ghost.
The real one is out there living her life.
Seems you still want to play host.

My former love, what shall we write today?

Straightening files and writing names.
Of fables, tales and speeches of unseen.
Where word of the fantastical align with his aims,
So there sat Albert, finding what he could glean.

"Where does the light go from here?
Where will I be when I die?
I wish not to be in hell, no line will I do there.
To heaven I feel most unlikely for I.

Juniper... I wonder where you would go.
Where the world would have you be.
I wonder to which place you would sow.
I wish you were here with me."

The poor man continued his sorting.
His plans, his ideas and their action with do.
And when all with which shined divine, became that reporting.
He took all with a sword to keep and run through.

For the words in the paper.
The lines in sand.
Wash away with lies much greater,
Than truth unable to stand.

Albert looked at the cross, he studied its wood.
The smooth lacquer that bore his touch.
And where the lines of his studies, of all that is good.
Turned dour eyes as a crutch.

"Where does god to be with man, hold in esteem?
The frontward facing pain in my heart.
Of a woman gone, folded in the seems,
Of a world that is tearing me apart."

He pondered and drew yonder to in a sigh.
And there was no one to listen.
And there was no answer from on high.
And so Albert moved on, he moved as if stricken.

I pull at this rope ladder, adjoining these cliffs.
Umbridge with my crawl to the other side.
Myopic days spin the wheel, sputtering in fits.
Arms and legs of a forgotten bride.

Feathers of a bird flutter to the bouquet.
Jumping at the opportunity of a happy lucky life.
Dwellings shroud the ghetto in dismay.
And you went home without me, to your side.

Feels good to get it all out.
That without you, I feel a broken man.
Tallow and sloth from me you are without.
Your impression of me a ghost, a memory and as well, a brand.

Frontward we walk at the same goal.
But without eyes there is no love I could know.
My very depth, my heart beckons your soul.
And yours deaf, as its silence tells me to go.

Like petals falling on the ocean.
My thoughts of you still linger on.
They fight, they coil and in motion.
Rest in the words of this psalm.

Scry, the telling of a broken heart.
In a distant past where hello sounds.
Fear, the coming coldness of a flood.
And her echo likeness in the crowds.

From where do these feelings come?
Mind the gap, it's where my dreams had once reside.
In guilt, my memories of moments some,
And in ghastly poems I confide.

Have you not felt as I do, idling in the screen?
See these collapsed surroundings in mine broken eyes.
Of a future not hoping, of a life unseen.
Where I decided to break a heart, and say my goodbyes.

And the last one to say, I couldn't have known.
In three years the bullet finally struck my mood.
And when I spoke, the love I felt had been sown.
To the darkest moment, silence drifted in the gloom.


I'm sorry. I will be sorry until my death.
Mark the moment of an arrows strike.
Pull back, correct the stance and calm your breath.
I can only let loose and redraw, start a new page and rewrite.