The Sun will falter,
Day turns dark but comes the Moon,
Light shall rise again.

If I could, I would

I'd collect your worries
like water from a stream
let your rills of anguish
wash over me

If I could, I would

Your pain that festers
like a storm inside
I'd take it all for myself
let it be my demise

If I could, I would

You are beautiful
don't let my words run astray
just know you are my world
my Sun, my everything

I did not know this was possible: to be in 2 places at the same time. I am here, still here but my heart is elsewhere. I am here, staying here but my heart's packed up and left a long time ago. My body sleeps with him at night but I look the other way. I have looked the other way and lied to myself for years and years, blinded so foolishly by a love so strong it ruined me. The truth is always the hardest pill to swallow, but I need to face my demons and the secrets I've kept if I want to move on. I am in 2 places at the same time. First, I am where I have to be-- a place that beckons me to stay and be strong and forgive over and over again. Second, I am where I hope to be-- a place of peace and contentement and if I'm lucky, maybe joy. The mind is so strong that it allows one to endure great suffering through unwavering willpower. How do wrongly incarcerated persons survive decades in prison? It is the idea of freedom and faith in justice that keeps them sane and alive. It is the hope that one day, their truth will come out and their liberty served that empowers them. This is how I feel. This is how I'm still alive.

The stadium is empty now; just cardboard fans sit in those seats.
Old Bob Sheppard sits at the mike, clears his throat, and begins to speak.
One by one, He calls their names: Larsen, DiMaggio, Rizzuto, and Berra.
One by one they doff their caps; these heroes of the golden era.
The vacant ball-yard in the Bronx that the current Yankees call their home
Is silent on this sacred day, save for that rich baritone.
The specters gather on the diamond; these fabled heroes of yesteryear.
It would have been old Timer’s day today
These sights? these Sounds?
Only I , alone, can hear.

It is time for David Brooks
To reckon with David Brooks.

Not quite the right fit
Your feet are not for it
I am genuine
The width for the purpose
The length for comfort
The exact precision in walking obvious
This is only a test
But it is a true confess
Step in or step out
You can only try out being determined
Your foot circumference would change
The agenda will remain the same
You can’t change your foot size
I puzzled in your eyes with an amaze
Your foot is the defuse
My shoes in wearing I can only use
You can only step in, but will never fulfill
There is no way in will
My shoes are what truly fit
That is all too it