I stood still and I waited
I listened, I heard
A melodic symphony
Like a bird, but with words
The message was relayed
Acted out and portrayed
In an unusual manner
With clear genius displayed
It gave me the goosebumps
By what all was said
About massive struggles
To feel alive before dead
I was moved, but unwarned
For the performance at hand
To be swept away
By a young British man?
Captivating and impressive
With just his voice and a guitar
Shedding light on his illness
By exposing all of his scars
He’s a vessel to carry
Innovation; through tunes
Attacking each topic
That help heal opened wounds
Things in the present
Or through memories shared
Expressing raw emotion
When most would be scared
The talent oozing, exuding
With every pluck of each string
I’m immersed, baring witness
Watching an angel earn wings

A fluorescent pink sky
Dictates the mood
Serine, like a dream
Euphoric and smooth
The heavens reflection
An estranged interlude
Of angels and demons
Both seeking out truth
Boats in the boatyard
Made of skeleton crews
Succumb to the rhythm
When the tide sings the blues

Beaten and busted
Loved all the same
Fabric and cotton
With an obvious name
Teddy, the teddy bear
Had seen better days
He’d been through the ringer
He’s mangled in ways
But with a pure heart
Soft as could be
These memories
Have stood longest with me

The painting manifested
Into a work of art
Encompassing the beauty
That was envisioned from the start
Hummingbirds fly feverishly
Around emerald green sachets
Which drape over divinity
In the most complimentary of ways

I’m approaching a doorway
With the doors now ajar
That’s been protecting the contents
Of a once fallen star
They tried to contain it
But the bright light shone through
They were told not to enter  
But their curiosity grew  
A sacrifice, a martyr
With caution, subdued
They burnt into ashes
As if right on cue

I’ve come unraveled
I’ve come undone
I’ve been burned by more than just the sun
I’ve made mistakes
I’m not immune
My walking music’s out of tune
It’s as if I don’t know what to do
What it is, I want to pursue
So I dillydally, and wait my turn
I guess some people never learn
Thanks so much for your concern
But my urge is gone, set fire, burned
Extinguished for posterity
And sealed tightly with a kiss
In a hundred years
There’s not a chance
I’ll be remembered well or missed

There are few things that give me peace
Like the hesitation, just before release
Having comfort in my skin and home
The two places I spend my nights alone
What’s unbeknownst, will set me free
Instead of mulling over my misery
Filled with broken hearts, and catastrophe
Not trophies for my victories