To the angel that I’ve yet to meet,
That gentle spark of creativity,
The calling card of humanity,
I’m so glad to see you sane.

Though the years apart do paint their toll,
For all of us to see,
None of that matters anymore,
Now that I’ve met you,
And you’ve met me.

I’d say I love you here,
But the years apart have been unkind,
For we both have our weight to carry,
But seeing you here sets all my care free,
Enough that maybe is almost certain.

So before we hear the curtain call,
Put on a dazzling display,
Of heart, of warmth, of spirit,
Set your weary heart to sea,
And let’s float gently together.

I count the birds from 1 to 10,
Resting wings on branches thin,
Tired so from Winter’s call,
“Abandon homes, take flight all!”

They run the race from north to south,
On wings of grace no time for doubt,
The place to be is warm and bright,
“We’ll make it there, through day and night!”

Away your songs, forgo your nest,
The journey’s long, hope for the best,
How can we know, just where we’ll be?
“Why it’s past down from family!”

In flying V’s, in pairs, alone,
We make the trip to find our home,
And find somehow we’ve made it here,
“A place we’ve known since yesteryear!”

Hearts are rare,
And halos dead,
I would declare,
No angels left.

Were it not for you,
A truth would shine,
In halos place,
And twist the mind.

No angels left,
But this rare find,
A lovely heart,
The lonely kind.

Of quiet words,
And brighter thought,
Show me then,
What time forgot.

The caring cure,
From healthy souls,
Before my own,
Became so cold.

I want to say I love you so badly,
But how can I when you find love everywhere?
In this heart or that one,
In that name and the next,
What is love to you,
But an endless honeymoon?
I want to give you what you say you want so badly,
But I’m afraid of being hurt.
In just a day she said my name,
So gentle and much too sweet.
In a week she said it with a gleam,
In two her friends heard wedding bells,
And my god I should have listened.
But I never said a word,
I was too afraid.
You asked me in a month or so,
What it would take for me to like you,
And I wanted so badly to say that I love you.
But how could I,
When you see love everywhere?
It’s been four years and I’m sorry,
But love just isn’t fair,
I’m stuck here lost in thought,
About how I never said I love you.

Music for a muse is a wonderful thing,
To hear the voices carry as angels sing,
And show you then their vibrant wings,
Of hope and hate reflected so,
Out on the winds, the proud loud notes.

A lullaby or siren’s song,
To keep you writing all night long,
The lower basses standing strong,
To carry with them the old tune,
And your interpretation soon.

Sorrow is a poison
That spreads from man to man
Unknowingly corrupting those around us and ahead.
Passed down from one generation to the next
From one heart to another
Darkening the beautiful blank slates that make up the foundation of promise.
With modes of transport as subtle as repression
And as pronounced as love.
I have lived for 22 years and observed the way it spreads.
A drop of sorrow to a wicked man is as common as rain
But it is a flood for those of good intent.
It gives simple words a sting, or even those unsaid
It turns a good man doubtful
And a doubtful dangerous.
Sorrow is the sum of wounds the heart has seen touched or felt.
It is the reason for insecurity, for mockery, for unnecessary pain.
The next time someone shows you sorrow, mend it with care
And know that it likely did not start with you.

When I was young my father said,
Be weary son of your awful head,
Filled with thoughts both old and wise,
And soft spots there for tragic times.

I looked at him and laughed away,
All worries then of impending days,
So joyous then was I the fool,
Who held fast to the golden rule.

Treat others fair so they in kind,
Would carry on with you in mind,
But left unsaid was another half,
Walk along the quiet path.

The one not filled with tired hearts,
Waiting for a gentle spark,
Of love, of joy, of precious things,
For they all hide a broken wing.

They’ll look to you to patch them up,
Longing for a gentle touch,
To grab ahold and leech away,
And leave to you a tired state.