I can smell him on my sheets
      I can taste him in my dreams
             I can still feel every inch where he's touched me
I hear his laughter echoing in the walls
             I can still see him in all these pictures I saved for
           memories

But this bed is bare
My dream's a nightmare
       I can't hear
             His laughter
       He's not near
             Enough to touch
My eyes are blinded by tears
He's killed my senses,  
      I'm no longer aware

Everything around me,  slowly fading away
His face, his scent, his laughter,  his touch
Maybe I'll just pop a few pills and sleep away the day
At least he's in my nightmares, the pain of reality is too much

What if it cost money to say,
                                                 "I love you"
Would you have said it
                                                      So soon?
Would you have said it
                                                     So often?
Would you have said it
                                                          At all?

I have some followers who have never posted a poem
Perhaps they're just people who enjoy reading poetry
But maybe they are just nervous about showing their work
Anyway here's how I view it
An artist makes a charcoal or pencil sketch
Once it looks right they start adding color
A photographer frames the subject and once its right
Takes the photograph
So start by writing a short stanza and then play with the words
You just might surprise yourselves

There's more to this,
This thing we call living.
Everyone's all about the take,
What happened to the giving?

We take what we can
And still we want for more.
Receive one or two of something
While wanting three or four

There's gotta be another way,
A way to be grateful.
But when we don't get what we want
Everyone acts so hateful

There's a feeling of being owned,
Before we've done anything
A song that needs to be sung
That we can't even sing

Lyrics to write down
To give our thanks and praise.
But instead we wallow,
Depressed for days and days.

*This might just sound like
A difficult way to live,
But wouldn't be great to take what we take
And give all we have to give.

there is no respite from love

no need ever

really.

Three words...Witness Protection Program
That's all I have to say
So if you think you see someone that's me
Just turn around and walk the other way

They've got me hidden in the middle of nowhere
Don't worry, you've not heard the name
Any who when it comes to small towns
Aren't they pretty much about all the same?

I'm the guy with the funny accent
The one without any friends
You know the one down on the cul-de-sac
Last house on the left, down on the end

With a slight suspicion that you know me
Can't quite place the name
It's right there on the tip of your tongue
There's something about me that's just not the same

Is it the different hairstyle?
What little there is left
Perhaps it's in the nose job
New teeth with a smile, the freshening of breath

Three words...Witness Protection Program
So if you see me out on the street
Don't nod, don't grin, don't shake my hand
Walk nonchalantly by and don't even wink...

I just need one more chance
This time I'll get it right
You know that it's not like
I haven't even tried

Before the walls close in on me
Or before the great hell freeze
I'll do whatever it is I need
To gain your trust in me

When it was your trust I lost
The very first time around
I ran it into the ground
Took years then to be found

I have learned my lesson here
To suffer is my fate
I did not hesitate
Before it was to late

I just need for you to see
I need one more chance