A confluence of those
who followed the river's flow,
This power of growth,
One that could build a city,
That frigid feeling,
Pulsing deep in your being,
Causing the desire to burn,
To stay with escaping breath.

A misstep, cool golden bubbles,
now flowing over the concrete,
An awkward laugh and glance,
Your tousled hair, streaming over your eyes,
This moment searing so deeply,
Will quickly be a drop of time,
Lost in the ocean of your mind.

With the world as your
muse
Your thirst grows for beautiful
views
That will take you to faraway
places
Into rare alpine air
Which will entail a climbing
thrill
But that caused your unfortunate
spill
Now in this incapacitated
state
You have your toil with a painful heal
And you have to beg the world to
wait
But the world will watch with endless eyes
As we have to laugh at our eventual demise

Running to catch an unraveling sphere,
Always running,
Running after my leaving siblings,
I trail in their laughter
As it rains on me,
me,
so easily left behind,
Everyone waits with a blank face around me,
Till they know nothing worthy will follow,
I follow,
They laugh at
the joke with no punchline.

I will stand at the chair in front of my father's empty desk.
The one place I know,
that he truly wants to be at in this house.
I wish I could garner the attention he wants to embed to these inanimate objects.
I stare at them,
wondering how to become that important.
Maybe it's something that comes with age.

My family is always so capable,
I can't even skip a stone on still water,
How pathetic.
So easy
they make it seem.

I am always waiting to be their age,
To finally matter,
I wait,
In total wonder of their capabilities,
I'll never be fast enough to catch up in age.
Forever waiting behind.

The baseball falls in the grass, the red stitching coming undone.
My father pleased that we're together, playing ball.
Not an interest of mine,
just the generic thing a father does with a son.
So obvious,
that he wants to be back in that empty chair.

Faded in the face of time's demise.
In the shadow of something once beautiful.
Of color,
So vibrant it stained me with love
in a blinding bliss.
Now the color has gone amiss. 
A black has drained out the red.
A dark new hue, 
I won't bare to witness. 
I only see the deadness now left,
With our void,
Neither of us with the might,
To reach inside,
And redirect love's light,
To keep a life going,
And reverse this Rose's plight.

Hands running over my
cool sheets,
Alone in my deafening bedroom,
I call out your name,
Which comes out in a silent moan,
Yr Love is a stain that pierces my heart with every beat,
With U I could never learn to
Touch the abyss I'd left inside.
I'll never
Know Where these echoes in my hollow home lead.
Maybe I'll
Feel Something for once in this desolate plight.

Why does every name rhyme with
I Love You.
No matter what comes before
or after it.
Whenever those words
fall off your lips
They have a lyricism that can't be equaled.
It always sounds harmonious.
Every name fits so well after those three words.
Like a warm embrace.
Your name gets to shine bright,
In poetic brilliance.
Every person will experience,
Being a part
of a beautiful
poem.