Forgive me my envy
of your amazing lives--
you who have children
you who have husbands
or you who have wives--
I left a life of torture and pain
so long ago, you see--
and now all I have left
is living alone --
yep, just me.

So, forgive me my envy
of your amazing lives
for I know that what I lived
was not right or good
even though I tried--
I saw I could not survive
the pain and anguish
heaped on top of me
I had to run, to leave
the intense torture, you see...

but still I envy those
who have loves and lives to share
who know that they come home
to someone who will
truly love and care
and perhaps in time
I'll have that one day too--
but for now, please...
forgive me for having
such envy of those like you...

Love as we know it 
May be elusive for some
Some go the distance to prove their ardor
Some decided that suicide is their best alleviation
And some didn’t even get both.

We seek love in all forms
We try to fathom the imminent outcome to what’s already there
We may be deceived, forlorn or highly exultant 
It’s like we were programmed to expect the unexpected
In either both good & bad conclusions.

Most of us bury the mounts of elation in a single episode
Not knowing what’s in the offing 
The least of us forever waiting 
For that love that never ceases
And yet we see most of us are happily married.

I figured,
It will happen one day
You may be heartbroken by your vilest past, 
Demurred by your preferences 
or 
Diligent to your prior responsibilities at hand


But it will happen
No matter what..
Cause I always believed that
**God Is Fair.

That house,
With the paint barely
There, windows so *****
They're no longer
Windows,

Was beautiful once.

Yes, I see her.
Street scars; concrete cuts,
Nothing in her eyes but
The ghosts of morning ******
And her father's endless
Sadness.

Bad news is always dreaded
Lump in my throat as I hear a voice I never thought I would get used to
The aftermath of losing a husband yet still dealing with his ex-wife
For the sake of three beautiful, full-of-hope faces that are left behind
The eldest is sunshine golden
Great at math, loves to laugh
My precious Kallie-bug
The second child, middle stuck
Kayla, she-who-creates
Is a writer, a drawer, a nurturer through and through
The youngest makes me see myself
Inquisitive, a loner but still so full of love she cannot help but shine
Sweet little Addison
Out of 3 gorgeous girls, 2 of you have been cursed
Your father's disease passed down exactly
We will have to watch you struggle, suffer, cry
I do not know what to say to you, to others
(tears in my eyes)
Besides "hope", we must be so full of it that we can feel/see nothing else
I watched your father slip through my grip
Once a towering presence of a man
Reduced to a slight few pounds drowning in hospital white
I am so thankful you had his love as a child, he was something else
Never would have wished this for you
DKC is not a disease we know well, only that it brings hell
Nor can we promise that what we can do will help
I pray with your mother to separate gods
Each of us knowing that it does not matter
Our tears mingle into one single river through hundreds of miles of cellphone tower  
I will always be here
I will fight until I can no more
My little loves

upon this land I travel along
wondering who it is
that will hear my song--
I have to sing always, you see
because without song
there is no life within me
and when music
surrounds my heart and soul
there is no where that
I am afraid to go.

                                                            ­     oh how I

wish so that someone could be
as in love with song as I
(as I go floating on notes of melodies
while passing by)
and then find that their love for song
brings them to know (and see)
that they are just as in love
with me...

the only difference between a dream and reality, is that you wake up.

In my "Thought for the Day XLIII" (43), I spoke of poets that have been with me, and supported me for quite some time. Sally and Pradip have been with me since my first posting, "1894", nearly two years ago, and I have  "adopted"  Vicki, Catherine, Ryn, Deborah, Pamela Rae,and others along the way. There is Quinn, Phil, Pradip, Francie, Frankie J, Mike, John, Nat, SE Reimer, Sverre, "The 'Ole Storyteller!" and,"Larry, Moe, and Curly Joe!"  
Unfortunately, I cannot list everyone, in fear of overlooking writers who, collectively, mean so much to me. Please forgive me for that.
I will continue to "do my best" for all of the poets/writers/contributors to the HP site. I do not write for monetary remuneration, but for relaxation and recreation, with the end result, hopefully, bringing a smile to my peers. I thank all of you for allowing me to attempt, and occasionally, reach that goal.

Sincerely
Richard Riddle- June 03, 2015