They loved us until we fell,
Tumbled on a flaming wing.
They thought us smart, great,
Until we reached the fired sun.
We rose too high, too great.
Wax melted on our wings,
Formed by our friends and family.
We were great, once.

You might not approve of the action
The words might sting and hard to believe or difficult to digest
Acceptance takes awhile
Is it worth a sleepless night?
People change for better or worse
Mourning what was is futile
Move forward and if things are meant to be or improve
So be it
If not
Keep it to yourself and Journey on

Where's my rainbow after the rains,
Where's my calm after the storm,
Where's my light at the end of the tunnel,
Where's my peace after the war,
Where's my dawn after the darkness,
Where's my joy after the sorrow?
Where's my, "finally it's over"?

One more to add to the collection
Piled up in stacks
of memories ,
good, bad, indifferent.
They loom large like a hoarders playground..
Teetering on the edge of remembrance,
Akin to a child arcing  on the up curve of a swing in motion all joy and suspense...

The oldest of days
So compressed and worn they have become mere scraps
Postcards withe messages written
In ink  faded, jaded
Like ether riding a zephyr  they pass through your mind to tiny whirlwinds from days left behind.

This day different from any other, as are they al, closes now awaiting it's
place upon a pile
All so tall now
It was a gooday another one of love, laughter  action and rest, commonplace by many standards..

But we have  learnt
to take each day and polish it like gem.

And accept it as a blessing ..

Before resting
in order to walk
into yet another day

When this dust settles
This rift between us
Will fester and ooze
And there will be nothing left to do
But make fake conversation
To fill the awkward silence,
As we pretend we share values.
And the realization of Déjà vu will hit,
That this isn’t the first time,
But will it be the last?

Now and then
I feel the scales of justice tilt my way
It’s an uncommon feeling
A subtle breeze sifting its way cautiously through the trees
All at once I feel it’s might
Fairness brings a power not often experienced nor appreciated

In this sometimes-squalid world of ours
Truth and justice seldom arrive on a white stallion
More often they’re stolen by self-righteous greed
Gale force winds of injustice
Contributing to enormous storms of pain
Bringing heartache to many unfortunates

The blindfolded lady
Too soon gone, but not forgotten
That takes time
For her leaving is a bitter pill
That glorious feeling of righteousness and truth
Must be ripped away, it’s not freely given up

Sometimes I feel naked
Down to truth and bone
Life is often unfair
And though we must fight for what’s right
We can’t let what’s wrong
Consume us

a daffodil grows, all alone
beneath the tree, it will never be known
a boy is coming, the flower tries
please lovely boy, the flower cries
notice my beauty, notice my soul
the boy walks by, he starts to cry
why won’t anyone notice me
if only the boy knew
about the daffodil under the tree
A boy is a daffodil

When I was a girl
I thought I could be anything I wanted
I didn’t realize I would grow up
To be a woman
That I was forever ‘and her’
Instead of them
That my father loved me
As an exception
And I would have to witness my sisters
Wither away in happiness
I found out that I was not the ‘public’
In public transportation
That I needed to switch my grocery run times
Every now and then
Discovered the places where a hat
Could be the best weapon
On Sundays, I dress up and buy pretty roses for my table
To keep from remembering that
If someone wanted
There was nothing I could do to stop them