Seeing him sit across me wasn't awkward
In this life we all moved forward
He was protected by the mist no one saw through
won't talk to him
it will only add fire to the fuel.
His eyes were the green pools of curiosity,
under the ocean, trapped in weeds.

She won't seem to make eye contact...
Won't allow brown and green meld,
if only for a second.
Green and brown...
Like summer leading into autumn;
my soul flowing into hers.
I can feel it, or atleast
imagine it.

He's looking at me,
but why?
I'd like to look back,but
these ghostly inhibitions
keep me from wandering.
Too many memories
barring my imagination

I can sense some anguish
emanating from her soul;
a lack of control.
Pains aplenty? Scars,surreal?
Just what is this discomfort I feel?
I can see battlefields in her eyes--
Maybe...talking,I could try?

Carry yourself to the farthest ocean
for I cannot bear your soul so close to mine
so that we may never see the same stars,
I'd wish you close, only to walk away
Heaven, send me an angel
to quell my demons
come crashing down
I shall look back with eyes filled with tears
won't open myself to show my fears*

Her everything is exactly what I need
to pull myself away from these depths I'm drowning.
Her hands could be my wings,
and I could fly to cleaner heights,
were we are perched upon brighter horizons

When you are in the chasm
And the words are hollow
Only, wrapped in rhetoric
Even the echoes become inaudible
How do you express?
The irrepressible agony
Shattering the soul
From the stones hurled at you
On the verge of crumbling
And shattering into many pieces
Holding onto the jagged edges
And hiding in some crevices
Finally, into the oblivion
Swept away by the wind of apathy
Deep into the chasm
Engulfed by the darkness

There were days
she felt as if she were drowning
in an ocean of
expectations, failure, and fear

She knew that feeling
wouldn't last long though
because God had a way
of reminding her
that she had learned
how to swim

For that
     she was
            forever
                 grateful

It's propped against the wall,
anxiously awaiting to be played
sometimes it takes week
but often just a day

When she takes it in her hands
and begins to tune it up
it wakes up from its sleep
feeling the comfort of her touch

As she starts to strum along
the flowing melody is found
her voice begins to rise
my heart smiles at the sound

Eavesdropping just to hear her
because she doesn't understand
how I'm overwhelmed with joy
and that I'm her biggest fan

It's not the way she plays
or how beautiful she sings
it's the humbleness she shows
and the serenity it brings

To have that kind of passion
without needing to be praised
my daughter's gift sent from above
gratefully received in many ways