These swords leave scores
of sores of course.
And scars that rise by and by .
Beat out lines in Braille and Morse,
to that overwhelming force.
Of fine on coarse
then coarse on fine,
and in the wind
all fine, all time.
Though we wine and dine
And polish til shine,
it ain't all Shinola.

Times are hard.
Times you, times me.
But time heals all wounds.
And all that is hidden will be revealed,
In time.
So give it time...
Do you have the time?
Time out, time in.
Time to go.
Bed time.
Nighty nite.
All of my love.
To you.

We can hold hands,
Until the stones go cold.
And we can cast them at glass houses.
The one we call our own.
When all that matters
Is shattered and scattered.
And all the winds have blown.
It seems that tattered and splattered
Is all we've ever known.
I've the photos on my phone.
Let this be my final testament.
My ode in a ringtone.

I've missed her
Yet a love hate eccentric
All rolled up in concrete arms
That bon voyaged a thousand ships
And if it's a thousand tears
Across a thousand lips
Arousing those ghosts
In forgotten crypts
Cross my heart
Hope to live
To fight again
All I can give
And if her roads
Lead to the sea
Perhaps she might
Sail away with me

friend winter
knows solace
a cruel mistress
come spring