Falling in love
When you have an agenda
Is so
Painful

Am I less man then other men
For writing feelings thoughts of
Love lost of trusting others with
Thoughts put to pen

This space in between
Severely ill
And
Finally well
Is so full of confusion
This mixed bag of
Pain
Happiness
Heartbreak
Memories
Old habits tempting
Creeping up to pull you down
While you can see light ahead
Begging you to get better
These are the growing pains
Of recovery

I would rather be poor on Earth and rich in heavens of divine,
like the beggars on the streets,
I hide my spirit in the realms of time,
far away from the evil eye of the world.