1) For every great skyscraper, there are petty fingers that built them.
I wonder if we were made the same way.
They were strong enough to raise a hammer, but not enough to raise a family.
I wonder if we were made the same way.
She is cold, and he is drinking, and this is our backbone.
She is alone and he is driving home too fast because sometimes you don't have to be in the wrong place to be looking for the wrong thing.
She is afraid and he is warm, this is the beginning spark of a forrest fire filled with broken glass shattering in broken homes with broken people inside on a broken piece of land in a city that has too much rain for someone to build an emergency room in. Everyone with a burden holds their confessions in their left palm and their beggings in their right and no one ends up having enough arms to hold each other.
2) One day the whole world will be in your hands too, and you'll see that sometimes darkness can blind you worse than the red glare the sun paints your vision when you stare at it with your eyes closed.
You will be brave, you will stand up straight, you will stop being royal when people stop painting Jesus with a purple robe.
Even the concrete asks the sun to make it a garden so try cracking your knuckles a little louder and maybe you will wake up as a mountain.
3) Autumn. When you wrote secrets on notebook paper and taped them underneath benches in the city park, you gave too many pieces of yourself to things that weren't made for holding that much weight.
But you said it kept you honest and there were never any reasons for me to ask you to stop giving away the parts of you I wanted to myself. It kept me humble.
4) I am alone
5) You are October in a green dress with a black mask around your eyes and you have stolen the breathe of that day. And I hope when you are 80 years old you feel a breeze sliding on the back of your neck reminding yourself of all the times it should have snapped in half during the moments of what should have been your hanging, how it takes you back to living life like you're always in the desert and stealing innocent people's money and smoking cigarettes beside rattlesnakes.
I hope you find a beach in the Caribbean that asks to be died on, I hope you learn to forgive people harder than you can cry on their shoulder. I hope you watch a sunrise that you spend the rest of your life thinking about. I feel like for that to happen you need your feet in the ocean or underneath a rocking chair, but I would settle for your bedroom.
6) But with you it was never settling.

Hair down, chin up!
That's what I ask, that you don't give up!
To the girl crying inside the stall,
or the one that's overcompensating, shopping spree at the mall.
Hair down, chin up, for your sake not mine,
I want you to walk, in a great straight line.
Take no more deviations, off the path,
fill your world with love, and do not participate in it's reveling wrath!
I say to you, mother of 1, 2, 3, 5 or more,
do not ever, close your door.
Lock the front, guard the back, but listen mother, to your children today,
for you do not know, how much longer you or they, may stay.

To the lonely wife, and with a husband now gone for so long.
Hold on tight to his memories, and pray to make much more,
and to him and only him, should ever open the door.
Times will test you, trials will be hard,
and never ever ever, throw down the give-up card.
Because he'll need you more than ever, and I hope that you do know this,
that for ever day he's gone, he longs for 10 fold, for a kiss.

To the young girls around the age, of aging immaturity,
I plead to you to think it over, know when you are ready.
Perhaps you love him, with all your heart and soul,
but do not lose sight, of an average person's goal.
Love grows fonder when practiced with care,
you are young yet, and troubles have yet to begun, will either of you still stand there?

Perhaps this is a rambling of a senile old man,
or do I speak at least a modest truth, as simple as I can?
I'll let you decide as to where the story leads,
these are little food for thought, the thought that I feed.

Now look up, and around, soon as this song is done,
open your eyes anew, your story has just begun.
Where ever you go, whomever you're in the company of,
Hair Down, Chin up, and never ever, give up on love.

I don’t remember much, Sugar Ray told me.
Yesterday is tomorrow. Tomorrow is the same.
He told me this isn’t what I wanted to be,
I would tell you but I forgot your name.

It crept behind the corner. Bats. Cobwebs.
Dusty. Proof was needed to believe something
Of such filth. Barbaric
aBsURditY.
The memories crawled back into the cave.
Music played.
Rita rocked back in her chair,
“That sound, I knew it once”.
Once was a while ago.
That’s forever.
If you knew it and then lost it
Consider it dead.
“It was never a memory if it can’t be remembered”.
That’s what the nurses told them, Rita didn’t believe.
She knew that sound from somewhere.
That’s all to be retained.

Hope Springs Eternal.