It’s like
You get close to it
Make the most
Boast of it
Gloat prematurely
Expecting a raise
But demote insecurely
Your capital gain
You’re worth less
In the game
And identify solely
With figures
Of fame
But attain
Ultimately
No dividends paid
Just a diffident
Dissonance
Caught in the rain
Just an incident
Waiting to happen
In shame
And of innocence
Soaking in sin
Your soul stained
And of fortunes untold
For blood sold
You are blamed
Until all you can do
Cut your losses
And run
Come to terms
With the zeroes and ones
You’ve become

If you told me of your deepest sin
would you fear I’d despise you?
Will you trust me, let me in?

Do you think I don’t wish to know
everything about you?
Would the truth be such a blow?

Don’t you think I might suspect
the truth you think you’ve hidden?
You fear you’ll lose my respect,
that you’ll become the unforgiven.

From the deepest depths of hell
even you can crawl to earth.
I’m here to hear what you can tell
and to tell you of your worth.

There’s a way to wash the stain
out of your broken soul.
To seek redemption, heal the pain.
To make amends should be your goal.

Give me a chance to be the one
who can see that you have grown.
That you are more than your worst day
and you don’t have to be alone.

Some of us can see
when someone truly seeks redemption.
Who seeks it not for sympathy
but for truth and honesty.

I’m the outsider left
In the darkness
Bereft
For too long
As I watched them all
Toil in squalor
Imagining
What they would do
For a dollar
There has to be more
Than my place on the earth
But to fight for it
Die for it
See her give birth
Was the land that they claimed
To its roots
Were engrained…
And I am the Communist
Seed
That they trained

Pondering the gnarled vineyards at twilight,
   it is for their rare fruit that I long.
The vines have survived many a drought and blight,
   rendering them sensitive but strong

The fruits of old love are tender and sweet,
   having  learned to endure sun and shade;
Gleaning fortitude from gales, snow and sleet,
   their true value's been measured and weighed

Old love seeks the beauty that veils the heart --
The wrinkled face and the graying hair
  matter not;  Yet, what a sting they impart
  to the lonely caught in Time's cruel snare

Observe the pearl fishers -- they're not concerned
   with the oyster's shell, but with the prize
   that's dwelling deep inside, for they have learned
   precious gems lurk in cunning disguise

Satisfying are the fruits of old love ---
   so patiently they wait to be claimed
   by soft, wizened hands, gentle as a dove,
   yet revealing passion, unashamed

Because of all the sorrows and the tears
   and the many heartaches left untold,
   love that has withstood the test of the years
   is a love that's worth its weight in gold

How blessed are we who can see love's sweet truth
   unfolding before our very eyes;
We don't need the exuberance of youth
   to yield to love's call 'neath star-filled skies

Old love has had its feet held to the fire,
   and it emerged, still able to stand;
It survived the bogs of life's muck and mire . . .
What more can be said?  Old love is grand!

Your face is lined;
your brows are white.
You’re facing down
your long twilight.
Your tummy has a little bulge--
I see marks of what you
used to indulge.
Your teeth aren’t white;
your hair is thin,
but I believe that you’ve won
the struggle within.
There are bags
underneath your eyes,
but that gaze now is
so much more wise.
You don’t stir my blood--
the blood of youth--
but your words today
speak realms of  truth.
Love is left
when lust is gone,
and this love will last
‘til the world is done.

I saw you standing by the door
as I swayed and rocked on the dance floor.
The music was familiar, I could follow
the rhythm, the melody;
it seemed to be the missing part of me--
my unspoken sorrow, and sexuality.

You seemed immature. I didn’t try to understand
what you were saying. Your offered hand,
I rejected.  
I thought you were adolescent, smirky
trying to shock, pretending to be *****.
It didn’t make me feel like being flirty.
In fact, you reminded me
of everything I despised.
I couldn’t see the pain in your eyes
or peel away the lies
to hear the truth that you were saying.

A few decades later, here we are.
I’ve now found myself hitched to your star.
Do I now understand who you are–
or did you change--
older, wiser, the pretense gone?

I”m so sorry to arrive at this party so late.
Forgive me–
I was blind,
I was deaf,
I needed someone to hate.

My love, my guiding light,
shield me from the horrors
of this mortal world's blight--
the sorrow, and the pain,
and blood running into rivers
like rain.
I close my eyes and curse my sight.
But as I turn to you, your image
blocks out the deepening night.
I imagine your hand, your fingers touching mine
(though you will never be mine). With you,
I am home. I walk through the night
to where it is always day; I shall never be alone.

I'm a dead person living in shambles,
The ever so tempting urge to disappear,
Is beckoning me from the corridor,
Smelling of easy success.
It's lips like candied cotton,
Eyes of care and warmth,
It's whispers all I've ever wanted to hear,
And promises me that I, too, can dream,
Regardless, it will follow me.