Labels.
Judgement.
Stigma.
Will we not even try to understand?
To hold out our hand?
To come alongside.
In words of comfort.
Words of love.
To the divorced.
Who feel like they've failed.

Labels.
Judgement.
Stigma.
Will we not even try to understand?
To hold out our hand?
To the mentally ill.
Whose tormenting thoughts are a living hell.

Labels.
Judgement.
Stigma.
Will we not even try to understand?
To hold out our hand?
To the lost teen caught up in the downward
spiral of addiction.
Where escape from life is so appealing to them.

Labels.
Judgement.
Stigma.
Will we not even try to understand?
To hold out our hand?
To the homeless man without a dime.
Whose every moment is a struggle to survive.

Labels.
Judgement.
Stigma.
Will we not even try to understand?
To hold out our hand?
To the child in the classroom who doesn't fit in.
Who needs an aide to settle them.

Labels.
Judgement.
Stigma.
Will we not even try?
To accept.
To comfort.
To...
love.
To hold out our hand.
And then...
watch God heal.
The broken hearts.
Of the marginalized.
From the pain
of
the
stigma.
Of those who don't fit in.

When I was a boy, I’d watch the rain
race down the window pane
I’d look out into the autumn street and watch lovers hand in hand, leaves at their feet
and I grew a little older
and the days were long and colder
the rain drops kept on falling
and I could feel your beauty calling, I fell for you
look at you over there, your long brown hair, your sun kissed skin I beg you let me in
look at your big green eyes, how I wish those soft pink lips were mine
there have been a million beauty’s
but you just cut straight through me
and your face was just a picture, it haunted me in the dead of the night
in this town I call my home,
I take up the throne I’m the king of kings
and in the bustling bars of my desires, I’m my own victim
there’s no other girl around,
in the streets that scar this town that I’d rather hold
and you must know this throne, I’d give it all up for you
look at you over there, your long brown hair, your sun kissed skin, I beg you let me in
look at your big green eyes, how I wish those soft pink lips were mine
and when you walk out from your shelter,
I just melt, and I see the way the boys look too
just give me one chance ?
sure there are other girls, I cold romance
but you went out fishing,
I was in the ocean wishing, I saw you and you hooked me
my god you’re such a beauty
I wish you could just see my heart weep
I’ve seen your face a thousand nights, a million times and for lips to taste as good as yours well it should be a crime
tell me are you real ?
Let every other boy, have there toys, let every prince, have his war to win, let every queen, have her dream I want nothing else but you
Louise, look at me, I’m just a dreamer all laid out to bare,
you could **** me right now, with a single stare, don’t look at me like that
If I can’t hold you once, then I know this life’s unfair, just look at you …. Over there
In this war where there’s only one soldier, please just let me hold you
And stop fighting, it’ll be alright, let me release the burden of your beauty, tonight
Look at you over there, your long brown hair, your sun kissed skin I beg of you please, let me in
Look at your big green eyes, how I wish those soft pink lips were mine, well they are tonight
And if tonight’s the only night you love me I could die tomorrow, let some other fool watch you, then have their piece of sorrow
Because one night with you louise is all it’s going to take
to let me live unburdened but my foundations will be shaken
I’ve had my chance, my chance was taken, I’ve dreamed of you and my dreams were made, I can rest easy now, knowing I’ve known you … my sweet Louise , knowing I’ve known you.

The door was open
And from then on I condemned myself
I was lost and I was broken
Inside the store where in the light of day
Pretty women buy new clothes
The lights were out but the locks weren't on even though the sign read closed
I took my chance and lined my pockets with money from the till
And from the window across the pavement watching with tears on her cheeks was stacey, she was still
I raced in the shadows of the bingo halls
Fives flew from my pocket
Landed in a puddle I fell to my knees
Picked one up and then I dropped it

The sirens ran out
They filled the air my blood ran cold this wasn't what I wanted
I used to have a job that paid the bills and filled my rover
Until one winters morning the forman came in and said "sorry guys the work is over"
Then all I had was the clothes on my back and last months money in the bank
Not even enough remained to fill my trusty rovers tank
Things got so bad my wife packed her bags
And headed off down town
Now she dances with the sirens that
Hunt these streets just trying to track me down

In a darkened corner
I lift my blanket over me behind the skip trying to stay warm
Awoken by the screaming and hounds Barking they jumped me like a swarm
I was caught in the glow of the blue lights flashing and hatred in their eyes
They pulled me up and pushed me out onto
the main street and into the sky

And there was stacey
Her long brown hair was still as young as the day we first met
Fifteen years ago I held her in my arms where in the church we were wed
I bowed my head in shame as she asked me to explain
And all I said was

The door was open
And from then on I've condemned myself
I'm lost and I am broken
I'm hungry and confused, it feels like I am over
I used to have a wife, a house I used to have a rover
Until the works shut down and I was left wondering around chasing fivers along the ground
My fingers bleed from scratching he dirt and my skin is cracked and broken
....The door was open

I sit down; take a long look at the man staring at me
That man in the mirror, crooked nose, eyes full of hope
In their reflections I see the ghost, of a man haunted by his past
The lines on my face, I didn’t make them
They just appeared, now I don’t have a name
I’m just a man in the mirror
Lavinia turns the gas stove on, My boy with his guitar playing me a song reminding me of when I was young
My bones ache, how can that be ? I thought I was only twenty three, I’m a champion boxer, yeah that’s me but look at my fingers, there all crooked
Photographs line the wall, an old trophy gathers dust in the hall
I hear the guitar playing and Lavinia’s call, you’ll always be a champion to me
What she doesn’t know, is when she’s away I put on a show, reach for my glove, dim down the light, getting ready for the big fight
But the hand doesn’t really fit that glove no more, and those shorts are kind of small, you could even say they were a little tight, I stand beneath the light
I’m ready now, sip some whisky and ponder round, waiting for the champ to come out, this one will be over by the fourth
Go back to the mirror in the hall, who’s this ******* guy standing in my shorts, wearing my gloves that are gathering dust, with 2 front teeth missing
A body too big for his clothes, and that ridiculous crooked nose, gray hair like it’s been gathering the dust too,
Suddenly the light comes on, **** Lavinia’s home, catches me standing all alone a sight for sore eyes
She takes me by the hand, sits me down, covers my pasty body with my old boxing gown, my vacant eyes looking around
She whispers “you’ll always be a champion to me”

He squeezed his voice out of the throat  
an old Dreadnought guitar
He bared his soul to anyone
who would listen to his psalms;
purging the torn an anxious silence within,
surrendering an unspoken heart in a song

Some days you feel
like you live too long
Watching the recurrent tides
recede and grow low
This life, such an unplanned journey,
given to lose what’s been lost once more

How many times
must a heart be broken?
To realize a heart heavy
won’t stop beating strong
Steal away the broken inside
these flesh forsaken walls;
breathe one’s last bated breath
in the peace of a song

Sometimes life falls
w a a a y y y y short of expectations
Though passing time
may assuage evanescent dreams,
there is a stillness that floods the moment
awakening a motherless child in a soul

Fate befallen a wordless silence
in the aftermath of finally letting go
Fingertips no longer calloused
Dreadnought wood dusty gone cold
Melancholy madness echoes unrequited

A lonely bird without a song ...


* September 2016 © H.  Rivers*
              all rights reserved