Cautious
Not raucous
Planned
not random
too bad
too safe
      waif like
       chances
      stray
      flashes
soot and ashes
no smile
endless miles
walked,
talking,
no one listens,
sweat glistens
like a flooded furrowed
but brow
beaten down
by life choices
wrong voices
filling ears with corny
jokes, told to an audience of one,
choking on the
cigarette tobacco
bits in the unfiltered,
last bit of gentle
human kindness,
lost,
while all else is too safe,
relentless
looking and taking,
every rock hides a
treasure,
every empty cup a
full measure of what
seems deserved
           reserved,
           but not
a life
which
is too safe.

Shopping cart full
makes one wanted,
and unwanted at
the same time as
not everything in
belongs,
but all is owned,
by the one who
pushes the cart,
like life has pushed
him, around and
down flights of stairs,
with only an empty bottle
to match the empty life,
his children, his wife,
would not know him
if they saw him on
the street,
bet you he writes
mean poetry,
while mine is too safe.




©DWE032014

you molded me, soft, in
your hands- a wheel at
Pottery Barn- and I couldn't
say "no" (impossible, at that
point, since I was so sure the
sun set in your palms and the
moon only rose upon your
permission) so I let you turn me
into someone new, someone I
thought you could love. your
words tore open my chest and
mixed with my veins. they
whispered "you are beautiful, you
are lovely, you are everything" and
I soaked it up until you had nothing
to give but apathetic shrugs and
a mind that was always somewhere
else. I expected too much of you,
but how could I not when you
had promised me every star in the
sky on its own individual string?

love that
requires
love
in return
isn't
love
at all