I wasn't always so easily discouraged.
I used to bristle with enthusiasm.
I glowed with it.
It didn't matter if the task was simple, or tedious, or daunting, or boring.
As though on rails, I slammed into each and every task with terrific force.

But I got older.
Things that used to come easily grew slippery.
What I used to do without thinking twice, I found myself over-thinking.
I threw the brake. I ground to a halt.
Finally, I became idle. A left-over husk of a kernel that's already been popped.
I drowned myself with doubts. Hypothetical situations that might never happen.
I lived in fear of what might go wrong.

So I began to watch everything go wrong, as though I was helpless.
I was no less able. I was no less compassionate.
But I had grown wary. Of what?
What was it that, out of nowhere, caused me to slow down?

I guess I looked down and realized that if I fell, I would not be getting back up.

When you're young, you have no worries, because nothing is relying on your success.
So you mess up a math problem. You'll get it eventually.
So you botch things with that cute girl who sits across from you. You're young, you'll get it.
Re-assurance, faithfully, unwaveringly. A safety line should I fall.
But I never really fell, did I? So why am I laying down like I have?

Get up.

Get up.

I worry about everything. I worry that I will fail.

I dread what comes, what I can't avoid. But time, and time, again, it comes, and I miraculously don't die when it hits, because I've been bracing for a train-wreck impact, a force that will really, truly, finally, definitely lay me flat for good.

I close my eyes, and brace. But the crash never comes. The silence that was continued to be.

I turn behind me, but there's no train there.

I'm starting to realize, with relief, (with horror), that maybe all I needed to do was step off the track.

I look down, and realize, with a first-creeping then-howling laughter that I was never on the track to begin with.

I look off where the track is. There's no train there, either. Maybe there never was.

Maybe there never will be.

The girl was scared of puddles
And she was scared of rain
Every time the thunder clapped
She raced back inside again

She was given beautiful umbrellas
And coats of waterproof silk
But still she sat inside
And read on the window sill

As she grew the rain poured harder
And the girl cowered away
She hid behind her mother’s back;
She never ran to play

She was afraid of what the droplets were
So she sat and watched them gather
She still refused to step outside
And so she grew ever sadder

People came along
And people quickly left
They found the girls odd cowardice;
The way she counted every breath

There came a day when it was too late
And the girl was forced outside
She was lost without her silken coats
And with no place that she could hide

The girl was chilled clean through to bone
And her shy life came to an end
In her silken coats she reached the gates
And the golden stairs she did ascend.

In God’s own home she lay down her fears
And she swore that she’d be brave.
For there there are no window sills
And no pouring rain or hate.

Saint Peter smiled and praised her,
The girl who’d been inside,
And Saint Peter whispered truthfully
As he watched the young girl cry:

“Now, girl who’s scared of puddles,
And girl who’s scared of rain,
Did you ever think that when the thunder claps
It doesn’t have to mean your pain?”

“There’s others out there, like you
Who have suffered just as much
Yet they stay strong and they pull through
And they do not lose touch.

“I’ve been here always to protect you,
And that will never change.
So when you’re scared next just think of that,
And stand to face the rain.”

You must learn to love the puddles
And embrace the freezing drops
Dance under the thunderclouds
Until the lightning stops

I don't make New Year's resolutions
I make revolutions instead
The only way to keep from failing
Is to start the New Year dead

Losing weight, working out
I might even join a gym
But come December of the coming year
I still have not reached slim

I'll be nicer to my boss, and wife
I'll do more chores around the house
I always say this every year
But, I'm still reminded by my spouse

I'll save more money, start a fund
Take the family on a trip
But come July and August
I've let the travel savings slip

A New Year's resolution
Is a failure from the start
I have come to the conclusion
You've set the horse before the cart

By early spring you have none left
All your great ideas are broke
So, since I'm not succeeding
This year I'll start to smoke

You may ask me why I don't
Like to call them resolutions
It's because you make the same each year
And that's a revolution

One year, a circuit, twelve whole months
And you're back right where you started
You might set out to change your life
But in truth, you only farted

I don't make New Year's resolutions
I make revolutions instead
The only way to keep from failing
Is to start the New Year dead

I've more New Year's behind me
now that I have gotten old
My next one's in the tropics
I just don't like the cold

I used to party hearty
I wouldn't get back home till five
Now, I pass out on the sofa
My wife checks if I'm alive

I remember  I went drinking
I got drunk riding the bus
When I told my friends the story
they said, dude, that wasn't us

I told them yes it was,
We all stayed out till late
They informed me of my error
I had passed out just past eight

New Years was  Lombardo
New Years...it was **** Clark
Two giants of the evening
Two men who left their mark

Now, incentive to stay up till twelve
To see who will Jenny McCarthy kiss
well, I liked her better as a playmate
now, I couldn't  give a ****

The morning will still get here
Whether I stay up, or not
New Year's eve is nothing special
I spend it with my wife (she's hot)

We cuddle on the sofa
Fall asleep as if on cue
With our tray half full of finger foods
We're asleep by ten, not two

I wish you Happy New Year's
My best wishes all are sent
If you stay awake past midnight
Call, and tell me how it went.

These gasps of light
are the gaps in tonight
these downward globes
of ivory snow.

The world didn't end.
The world
didn't.

My bones lie aching here
writing for love
in this borrowed new year.

I know not whom
I hold most dear
How do I face
The world didn't end...
*another new year?

Sometimes I cry.
Usually it's before bed.
My pillow becomes wet with tears
let loose by loneliness, anger, surrender.
My body shakes as each sob tears through my soul
and vibrates through my vocal chords to come out as helpless whimpers.
My arms constantly reach for comfort and reassurance, but grasp nothing but despair.
I blink through the tears, seeing nothing,
and wonder why I'm still alive.
If anyone would miss me if I were gone.
My lungs search for air in gasps
between each bout of fresh tears
and take in thick fog
that suffocates everything but my cries.
I can feel my heart physically breaking
and losing its once-steady beat.
This goes on for the longest time.
Until my throat is parched, my tongue is dry, and my eyes are empty
My body numbs over and everything goes limp.
I am already unconscious though I am awake, so there is no transition to sleep.
I do not dream.
I wake up the next morning with crusty eyes
and a sunken feeling.
There is no relief.

Time S   l     i     p      p       e        d away
then it was the next day
but then time s     l     i    p    p   ed again
so why does time   S    L        I        P        away.