I pile up twenty years worth of
Publisher-declined
Collections.

They reach me to my knees.
Little towers of Poetic
Injustice;

Mini-monuments to the years
Of mailbox disappointments
And cursing the arts.

Now I thank for every manuscript
Returned with their polite regrets.
Another volume of "Unpublished

Works" for the future.
They are my Twelve Monkeys.
My Poetry of Gold at the

Rainbow's End.

One little voice was a piercing light through the bleak days I now know from a grateful distance,
It uttered with confidence a beautiful perception of what I believed was a woeful existence,
That gentle voice loved all that I was with a fierce and resounding persistence,
  On days when I could heed nothing but hate, the voice ran to my aid and met hate with resistance.

One loving voice stayed near to my soul and traded my loathing for a love steadfast and sure,
It taught me to mend hurts that are hard to forgive and cherish a life I did not believe I could endure.
A kindness that reached the core of my being rendered this pitiful human secure,
And despite all that went before, despite indignities done, that little voice dared to call me pure.

This is my twilight
  I've no will to go on
  man has lost his moral spirit
  beauty and love is gone-

we used to walk side by side
since sacred earth was born
life was then all dance and song
now its heart is bruised and torn-

there is no other world to beckon us
upon the demise of our last dawn
darkness will swallow up the fading sky
where the past's brightest light once shone-

I feel numbness all over me
dying, I desire never to be reborn
in this emptiness that will us enshroud
nothing is left but for us to mourn.

Sometimes the trouble seems worthless
And the pain just keeps me down
But I will claw ‘til I’m blood and bone
To try and keep this crown

Sometimes I fall and I can’t get up
And I just lie on the ground and cry
But I’ll still crawl 100 miles
To keep alive this lie

Sometimes my robes are heavy to wear
And I long to shed this skin
But I would wear a suit of lead
To hide from what’s within

This crown has become my burden
My robes they are all for show
But I’ll fight to the death to keep them on
Because this is all I know