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Chris Balase Jul 2020
I don't need moments of excitement
no seasons of joy
I don't need sparks that heightens
or splashes of coy

I need regular, unyielding,
steadfast, and true
I need the monotony of embracing
someone like you
An excerpt from a longer poem which I had written and lost.
Chris Balase Jul 2020
Too
I'm not a nice guy because I have to be. I am a nice guy by choice.

Make no mistake
I have seen the darkness in my mind
I have searched for the monster within
I have allowed our souls to entwine
instead of trying to fight and win.

Make no mistake.
That my kindness is but a choice
My goodness is but an objection
My gentleness, my calm voice
are selected impulses, not a reaction.
Chris Balase Jul 2020
It just makes sense
to realize this one true fact
that an unlovable me exists
to stump everything in me that's intact.

It just makes sense
that I am too broken to be whole
too ruined to be loved
too vicious to be cruel.

It just makes MORE sense
to understand being alone
for no one would accept and embrace
my once beautiful soul.

It just makes sense
to be rejected once more
to be thrown like chaff
to be melted to my core.

It just makes sense
To say goodbye than hello
to walk slowly and briefly
to dwindle a lil bit more.

I could probably write
a thousand more reasons for my plea
Cause it just makes sense
for me to stay UNHAPPY
Chris Balase Jul 2020
I wonder what she's doing tonight?
I know, this feeling ain't right
The memories we shared keep haunting
those promises of love everlasting

Each night I cry to God for relief
to ease the pain of this unsung grief
I can find no  rest, I have no cure
for our love may not be perfect, but it was pure.

I'm sorry, I can't let you go
I pretended to be strong, but it's all a show
so as long as I can wish upon a star so bright
I'll keep wondering... what you're doing tonight.
Chris Balase Jun 2020
Don't great me "Happy Father's Day!"

For I am not happy,
I failed as a father,
and this is not my day.
Chris Balase Jun 2020
It makes sense now

Walking along the streets with you
the smell of the air
its cold temperature
your weird smile
whilst I hold the umbrella
which you left in my apartment until now.

The sensation of having you
or our dimmed silhouette
or the whispers you uttered.

It makes sense now...

I had built a palace of memories with you.
and its walls and chambers were filled,
with echoes of your voice.

It makes sense now...

Why it's taking me far too long
to forget you,
for destroying such palace is akin
to tearing down myself.

It makes sense now.
Chris Balase Apr 2020
I entered the house
Coming from school
I am the eldest of four
A child, inexperienced, a fool.

I turned to see
my parents in glee
We've grown as teenagers
Young and bold were we...

Then I saw the sun
As years fly by
My son in my arms
Hushing his cry

Now the noon fades
As minutes become years
As my home becomes a wreck
Flooded with tears

I searched and had found
The embrace from another
But she too has left
Crushing me under.

Oh home that I dream
Oh home that I hope
Is one I cannot reach
And a future I cannot cope.
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