A hunger for something
Anything
The child turns towards her mother
I'm hungry
A mother walks away from her child
You ate this morning
Because a piece of bread
At 8 am
Was supposed to be a reminder
Of what a great mother she was.
With only a baby doll and a box
The child continues playing
As her stomach slowly eats itself
While the mother goes out
To smoke the grocery money
And cry about her incarcerated love.

And again
We see why our world
Is killing itself.

As Halloween nears,
I think back to that Valentines Day
In February 2011,
My dad died.

As Halloween nears,
I think back to the pain I felt
Losing my father at such a young age,
My coach.

As Halloween nears,
I think back on my family
And how I had to be the strong one,
Still hurts

As Halloween nears,
I think about how much I hate death
How much I hate Valentines Day,
But I'm not alone.

Your father died today.
As Halloween nears for the years to come,
You will understand,
Why I hate Valentines Day so much.

The pain passes from me to you
A loss is not just a loss
It is a decaying of the soul;
It is a hole that will never go away,
A fight that eats away at you.
I never wanted anyone else to feel it.

Physical pain doesn't compare
To the type of pain I am describing.
Blood pouring from a wound
Feels better than losing someone of the same blood;
We now share this pain.

Now, my friend,
Do not cry
Or do cry.
It is okay to mourn in your own right.
He is gone,
And it is okay to feel empty forever.

I understand.

It was her smile
That could light up a room
But a single frown
That could shatter everyone near her
She wore the crown
Encrusted in jewels
And even then
We all shattered more than we shined.
A lonely life on the throne
Catches up
To even the greatest of rulers

It was her illness
But it was everyone else
Who suffered

Sadness was only a muse
And now it has gone away

Anger came in second
And it no longer has use

I'm left without muses
In my new happy, little world

Nothing to write about
No hurt, no pain

I thought I'd be happy
To see happiness again

And that is the conundrum,
My friends.

A poet thrives on it,
The sadness, the anger.

They love writing about the hurt and the pain
What do they do when it has left?

And when I said,
"Beware of those who pretend",
It was a warning,
Because you should never-
Trust someone who tells you that,
Because they know
How to pretend
All too well.

This one's for you.
My free spirit up in the sky,
I know you are watching me.
My toes in the sand
My eyes on the crashing waves
Beer in my hand
As the jazz blares in the background.

So this one's for you
Because I know that if you could be,
You'd be here too.