.
     ...is a fragile little thing,
     that most tend to overlook.
     Small word with a **** big meaning.
     Some may uphold it; some may
     conveniently have it mistook...

Trust...
     ...is in the grasp of the unknown
     stranger,
     that helps you up when you've fallen
     down.

Trust...
     ...is the pact between you and the cab
     driver,
     as he takes you to where you want to
     be, across town.

Trust...
     ...the bough on which your swing does
     sit.
     Pray that it doesn't break as you enjoy
     its joyous ride.

Trust...
     ...your cook, hoping in your food he
     doesn't spit...
     Especially when you've provided
     feedback that scuffed his pride.

Trust...
     ...lays exposed when the keys to your
     house you surrender,
     to your neighbour who'd keep an eye
     while you're away on a retreat.

Trust...
     ...exists latent in the open palm of your
     caregiver...
     As a child you'd take his hand so he'd
     ferry you safely across the street.

Trust...
     ...is the unspoken oath that I had thought
     we both held sacred...
     When I spilled the contents, my heart
     couldn't bear much longer.

Trust...
     ...meant nothing when you took it all for
     granted,
     when you weakened and succumbed...
     ...and then shared with another...

Red                                                              ­Red
blood                                                        ­    poppies
splatters the ground                                       blanket the ground
on a cold                                                      on a calm
Orange                                                      ­   Orange
autumn day                                                   autumn day
a bitter, biting wind                                        a cool, rousing breeze
meets the                                                      meets the
Yellow                                                       ­  Yellow
piercing sun                                                   warming sun
beating down                                                shining down
on dead, littered bodies                                 on thriving, vibrant flora
skin turning                                                   emerging from
Green                                                       ­    Green
decay                                                      ­      grass
an ugly scene                                                 a brilliant display
of man's loss                                                 of nature's victory
Blue                                                     ­        Blue
uniforms                                                    ­    sky
war-torn, battered                                        endless, infinite
hidden                                                  ­        retires
by the                                                           to the
Purple                                                       ­   Purple
night                                                             night

Sometimes you just want to be heard
even if the world understands
not one single solitary word.

You raise your voice.
You raise your hand.
You make a move.
You take a stand.

Sometimes you just need to be seen
by total strangers in a public place
without a clue as to what it might mean.

You steel your nerves.
You set your chin.
You stand up straight.
You let them in

Maybe it’s a poem, that doesn't really rhyme
or a picture that you drew
between some notebook paper lines.

Maybe it’s a blog.
Maybe it’s a song.
Maybe it’s not quite right.
Maybe it’s completely wrong.

Sometimes, you just need to be heard.