Who am I writing for?
Someone who will never read my prose.
For whom my words will make no sense.
Sentences run on into scattered ellipse...

Who am I singing for?
Someone who will never hear me.
For whom the notes drift away.
Music, who's din has no melody.

Who am I dancing for?
Someone who will not be my partner.
My steps clumsily scuffing the floor.
Staggered passes drifting across an empty room.

For whom do I hold affection?
Someone who will never have me.
Someone who will not appreciate me.
Someone for whom my love is thrown away.

©:RWM

Some people’s lives are like a book
Type neatly set, pages numbered
Their chapters tell of Comedy, Drama, Romance, Adventure and Horror
The lucky ones may even have a forward and an epilogue, a table of contents and an index
In going through life, they are able to turn the page, move on

Some people’s lives are like an ancient parchment
Written in smeared hieroglyphs, spread out for yards
There are chapters if you can find them, the stories revealed as they are painstakingly discerned and interpreted
Their labors of understanding are started where they can, efforting to make a coherent tale
All their triumphs and failures, loves, sorrows, frights, and joys- there to be found, but never truly hidden or forgotten once revealed

Please excuse me as I return to my deciphering

:RWM

If I lose my path to renewal
My thoughts turn back to you
You give me hope, you give me faith
Your spirit tells me what to do

When I'm feeling sad, or ferociously angry and torn
I remember the rock, that on this day, you miraculously had shorn
It's given succor to billions, and it's glow has never left
Remembering you are there, gives me peace; putting my worries to rest

:RWM

Hell must be for those who feel
Who bruise and writhe in pain
For those who are numb to emotion
Live life on heaven's plain

I count myself among the number
For whom torment walks astride
Escaping grief and sorrow
Seems not to be mine to gain

However, tenderness gives you insight
Which the complacent cannot view
They spend their days overlooking joys
That only the somber have come to know

:RWM