In the late hours that feel like mornings missed
You'll find a mind busying itself with chaotic thoughts;
Shadows of the past, troubles of the present, and dreams of a brighter tomorrow.
The burden has shifted in years past
To grander futures and love yet to live.

Even with the fair change in weather I find sleep impossible.
To have traveled you must have once been somewhere.
From that point I've surely walked far
But the shadows that follow feel impossibly tall.
Every time you shine light unto them, new shadows form.

As a form of survival we do our best to integrate and homogenize.
You wear a smile, try to believe in it, and swallow your pride.
No matter how many times the people who love you try to shine light into your dark corners
You can never quite forget the way a brilliant light fades, and eventually vanishes.

With these pieces of history properly organized in my mind
I can begin to reconcile my experiences with the world around me.
Every person and interaction an opportunity to be an even brighter light to others.
I could do no greater honor to the memories I have of that light
Than to take in it's essence and share it.
That is the closest a human can get to living beyond death
And I plan to live a life worth remembering.

I came across a flower once, alongside the path I was traveling.
Every photon that bounced off that flower seemed to glow.
I saw the footprints where others had trampled near it.
So I found a new place, somewhere safe to grow.

In time, the gifts I could give weren't enough.
A beautiful plant needs the sun and a place to show.
"To the windowsill, somewhat removed but close."
The rain can sustain you, and from there the sunshine will flow.

Before I knew it, the time was drawing near.
The flower was ready, it's time to go.
I returned that sunflower to the very same road.
To be visited, loved, admired, and to always know.
Yet to live free without any interference.
So that someone else in need might find peace in your roots below.

There is an aching within my bones
A sense of lacking for which I must atone
Thoughts of timelessness in truth and reality
Supplanted by a faith in thoughts that have gravity.

Pass the torch from which passion burns
And fulfill the emptiness for which my mind yearns
Give the shattered ego thoughts of contradictions
Spurning ever forward understanding as it's jurisdictions.

Walk forth through brimstone and flame
The husk of my body in which thoughts become tame
Growing knowledge becomes less and less sufficient
A testament to the love I find within me deficient.

Back and forth the extinguished lantern swings
Throwing darkness upon all of the lighted things
Knowing not when to feel the warmth of love
Gnawing inwards from the lack thereof

Time will only tell if this feeling should subside
Or if the strength of passion will ever abide
To press onward to a bright tomorrow
Lest I spend eternity pondering the meaning of sorrow.

There's a pretentious air
In the way you presume I care.
How could it possibly be fair
To treat brother like mare?

To pass on your obligation
Is to inspire my frustration.
The thoughtlessness and abdication
Resumes hateful thoughts of vindication.

One asks not for reparation
Or from friendship a vacation.
Just a token of creation
Of an equal-footed communication.

I won't hold grudges, or hate
But you've been tense as of late.
You've been jumping my words to conflate
The words for your anger I use to negate.

Could you just chill out?
Nobody is out to get you.
It's hard to be a friend
When even enemies get more respect too.

I remember that feeling now
The part where things set in just right.
The warmth of your body
Pressed tightly to mine.

For a long time, some years now
I've been searching for that illusive belonging.
Eroding the sense of hopelessness
And bringing me back to life.

It's the silly stupid things really
That endear to me most.
The way you smile, and how your eyes sparkle
Even the way you laugh.

There's something about it all I can't quite place
I'm sleeping so well these past few days
I don't regret waking up when I head out, and
I don't sigh before drifting off early in the morning.

Is this what happiness is like?
It's not like this has even gone far at all
Just one date actually.
Some would say I'm overreacting.

I think it's just the sign of hope really
That inspires me to brighter moods
My temperament continues to improve
Each and every day I get to know you.

Like a vampire
This feeling ***** up
All of the life.

It creeps upon me
And rests inside me
Perpetuating strife.

It's not your fault.
You couldn't have known.
It just makes me sad.

All of those memories
My entire life
I miss you dad.

Natural phenomena make for great metaphorical explanations
Of otherwise indescribable realizations.
When you've reached an epiphany about your own situation
You are dawning upon a new understanding, a new revelation.

And perhaps its this very satisfactory description
That drives poetry as a healthy natural addiction.
Words which could never be expressed with proper diction
Spring to life in pages written as if fiction.

Far too often we find ourselves relating to the feeling of blue
But a color in fiction can feel so much more real and true.
A not so hidden and blunt allegorical, yet personal clue
Banishes our inner animal, and allows us to begin fresh, anew.

What is this community we find in isolation so well described
That encourages others to respond as if obliged?
The common understanding rains as if prescribed
To be the antidote to the gnawing emptiness to which we are subscribed.

Some inner purpose is behind why I rhyme
Driving me to an inner peace that is sublime.
Those who wait for sunny days that are prime
Write poetry, the ultimate victim-less crime.