I do nothing about the sunrise
It just happens
Like moments and days
On and on
There is a rhythm if not a theme
I do nothing about the theme

I did nothing to be born
It just happened
Like tides and moons
It was easy
I was there at the right time
All I had to do was be there

I know nothing about our fate
Though it exists
Like time and death
Always there
There is a fact if not an end
I know nothing about the end

THE END

                 By Phil Roberts

I think I might have broken someones heart, and I don't think I care, but she keeps calling, and it sounds like she's falling apart.

Then when I don't answer I'm left long with winded messages filled with apologies, and the pathetic pattering of her brains attempt to produce and procure the words she thinks will make me see her true worth.

Yes I know you think I hate you, you've said it a thousand times. And im aware you think you're broken, and honestly I agree. You need some help, you've gotta do it for yourself, because I can't ever love you back if you expect me to live in the hole where you fell.

There is that tree in the park,
The one those men converse under,
Of what was, should have been,
Before their loss.

Under a winter sun I once heard them say
The truth while lying all the same,
Of how things were and
How came their loss.

Go hear those men by the tree.
They speak from near the end,
Of love found and lost,
Of what might come,
If love is not lost.


© 2016

tell me about your favorite day in the whole
world.
tell me about your favorite soul in the whole
world.
tell me about the day your world fell, crushed, at your feet and how you made it through even when you were positive you were going to die.
tell me about your favorite thing on spring mornings.
tell me about how the crisp wind and autumn leaves make you feel after a hot summer.
tell me about your mom and dad.
did they show you kindness to no extent or did they shatter your dreams?
did it make you who you are today?
I don't just wanna know your name, I wanna know you.