Had I wings,
Then I should flit
From heaven to earth
To heaven again.

Had I wings,
Then I should float
From mountain to sea
To the river's end.

Had I wings,
Then I should soar
From steeple to rooftop
To chimney spire.

Had I wings,
Then I should glide
From plain to valley
To swampy mire.

Had I wings,
Then I should climb
To see God's face
In cloud's above.

Had I wings,
Then I should rest
On an olive branch
With a snowy dove.

Had I wings,
Then I should fly
From north to south
From east to west
And every place between,

Had I wings.

Why do we play these games we play?
They pull us in deeper everyday.

We're walking along a broken road
Where every step doth danger bode.
A step to the left, a step to the right;
One right step could end our plight.

Still, we pick one foot up
And set the other down,
Looking for some solid ground.

It heaves and sighs and thrashes about
Until we're not sure which way is up or out.

We know we should quit,
Yet continue on,
Looking for solace in tomorrow's dawn.

And will comfort come?
Well, who's to say?

You never can tell in these games we play.

I'm done with this.
I don't want a part in it anymore.
Leave me out of it.

I've tried to walk away,
But it follows me
Like the plague.

I banish it from my presence.
LEAVE ME ALONE!

I cannot function
With it so near.

It cramps my style,
Harshes my mellow,
Makes me nervous and unsure,
Anxious,
Breathless, but not in a good way.

I'm begging, pleading;
Get it away from me!
Make it stop.

End this torture.

raindrops on the windshield
glistening like stars
the darkness surrounds me
and warms my heart

the wipers are still
lest they erase
the beautiful painting
before my face

created by God
and admired by me
a quiet reminder
of the beauty
that He can create
if we'll only surrender
our whole selves to Him
and allow Him to render
our tarnished souls shining
and our ***** hearts clean

Swollen eyes
Clumped lashes
Damp cheeks
A runny nose

A fallen soldier
A heartbroken mother
A distraught lover
A devastated friend

All of it fiction.

So why am I crying?

Because I know.
I remember
What it feels like

To have your world fall apart,
Your love taken away

And I cry

Because it's never been the same.

I sat down today and began to type,
But nothing I said seemed to come out right.

The meter was all wrong,
The rhyme scheme was a mess,
The words were too simple,
The stanzas too plain,

So I decided to erase it
And start all over again.

A few backspaces later,
I started anew,
And with each keystroke,
My frustration grew.

My thoughts were garbled
And looked clumsy in print;
My words were childish
And seemed cliche.

So I tried one last time
To write something that made sense,
But instead of eloquent rhymes and articulate thoughts
I got ill-expressed musings and awkward phrasings.
Instead of a work of beauty and awe,
I had created a trite piece of junk.

And yet, I found attraction in its ungainly expression
And was fascinated by its candor.
Nothing was hidden in dreamy language,
Or couched in metaphors and vague allusions.

I was filled with a strange satisfaction
At having created such an unorthodox piece,
That evoked in me the simultaneous feelings
Of looking on a lovely, unappealing work.

There's a chasm within my soul,
and it's the place that you ought to know well.
There's a canyon within my heart,
and it's the hole that you used to fill.