They say the eyes are the window to the soul,
So why can't I see through yours?

I've tried and tried to look through the glass,
But no success has come to me.

You open and close your blinds for light,
Yet, the light you see can not penetrate through.

I glimpse someone pressing against the glass,
Surely wanting to be free,
Can you not let them go?

They pound and they call,
Just as I do,
Yet, you show no response.

A window leading to a soul that does not exist,
Just as a frame leads only to a picture on a wall.

There must always be a title,

“Title your paper…”,
“Find a title for your story”,
“Don’t forget to think of a title”,
“(Insert Title Here)”,
There must always be a title for your work.

“She’s taken”,
“I’m single”,
“We’re dating”,
“They’re talking”
There must always be a title for your relationship.

“Straight”
“Gay”
“Lesbian”
“Bisexual”
There must always be a title for your ****** preference.

“Dumb”
“Smart”
“Pretty”
“Ugly”
There must always be a title for your appearance.

“Popular”
“Loser”
“Goth”
“****”
There must always be a title for your group.

“Enemies”,
“Allies”,
“Friends”,
“Companions”,
There must always be a title for your associations.

Must there always be a title?

At the end of the sun
we imagine darkness,
A black abyss of empty space,

But there may be something more to see,
An existence greater than what we know,
Wondrous fields of stories and dreams
waiting to be explored and told,

What would we name this land we’ve found?
Could our minds contain the joy discovered?
Would all of our souls be a part of this world?
Is this the answer of life uncovered?

What is this realm our hearts now love?
Is this what has been waiting above?
Or something people said was myth?
Is this what is called life after death?

At the end of the sun
we’ll find much more
than any of us was hoping for,
Beyond the stars and over the moon,
Finally the peace we wished we knew