Long do I labor
My back turned to the hot bearing sun.
Long do toil
Until my hardened hands crack and blood begins to run.
And in my labor, my heart turns red with the fires of anger.
At the pointless task set before me.
Why, I question do I place myself in such danger.
When it is all plain to see
That my actions do little to sustain me.
My body though young grows weary of these bleary days.
And my youth drains from me as color from a cloth.
I am left weaker at days end than when I started
And I obtain no recompence To cover the cost of all that I have departed
The weight grows greater by the day
And I fear I grow weaker for the effort.  

And yet at the time of my departure
When i lay down my toils pick
When I go back to the shack of a home
That i wearily built.
And I open the creaking door to a warm lit home.
And inside I realize that I am not alone.
For within the darkness eyes look back upon me
Small delicate hands reach out to embrace my leg
Happy for my presence, for the comfort that I endure to provide

Let it never be said that my heart were made of stone.
For even I in my loss, in my pain, I go to eagerly divide
What little my toils have to offer, what little the world sees fit to condone.
And when I see the smile they all give
That another day, by my effort they may all live.
I try not to weep, for they thought crosses my mind
That if I were to fall to jealosies grip
What wall would stand firm against he horrors of mankind.

What piller would hold the ceiling above them.
What furnace would give them warmth.
What sword and sheild would protect them from evils men
I am undone by my title
Weakened by my bonds
But for them, my pourpose stays vital
And for them do I treck on the toilers grounds
I will bleed so they will not need to
I will fall such that they may rise
And when it is all said and done and I am called on to
Let it not be not be said that my cross I did not bare.
Let it not be said that my dependants  I did not prize

This life is long
It can be lonely
It can be scary
It can be disappointing
Frustrating
Terrifying
Ludicrous
Unkind

It boggles the simple mind
That one such as you exists.

Adoration, Admiration, Awe, and Respect.

Like water through the deepest valley
Or snow on the highest peak
You exude creativity
So brilliantly bright and clean.

It baffles the simple soul
That one like you remains unknown.

Humility, Modesty, Understanding, Calm.

You're a quiet shock to the system
Of what society's expected
You're a reflection of a vision
Of a utopia unblemished.

i haven't said two words
since i arrived back home.

i told her through my silence
that i was failing her and
myself.

she can't hear my thoughts
but they sneak into her head
and she is aware of what
i want to say

tomorrow i will not feel much different.

alienation is only the beginning
of a long list of grievances i face:

poor decisions
poor judgement
a more than momentary
lapse in happiness.

memories pour in through
my nose and ears,
triggering reactions I'd care
not to have.

i am filled to the brim with panic.
stop. breathe. stop--

the other night i cried myself to sleep.
heavy, heaving sobs. stop.
heavy, heaving sorrow. again.

when it is all over
simultaneous emptiness
is paired with intense feeling

but i am not sure of what.