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  Nov 2021 Sean Fitzpatrick
Lama
stumbled upon your hideaway
an unexpected intrusion,
sunken heart I swallowed
hallucinating your shadow,

bluntly dismissing my worries
as my eyes fondly sought
a heaven within your cheeks,

softly blushing underneath
your eyes treasured me
oh, naive little me,

put a foot aside, darling,
undone love awaits outside,
fantasies blinded your soul
while I stood, earnestly
yearning to own your heart
A part of the blight that is the whole human-race,      I did not know what it is was I was doing:     Ignorance of the Laws of the Universe is no excuse; or is it.     Was I are born into the world pure; innocent, free. I clothe ourselves with dishonesty.        I freeze out my Creator egotistically.  Lest I be born-again,                  I do not move forward.

My apologies I lay at your feet.    Please accept my deepest regrets for the harms I have caused.         I beg your forgiveness asking for release from my war-torn ego; my plastic soul,    my unjust referee.

I long, I wish.  I pray.     I create the obstacle; the splinter,     the log.
I fight my demons when I know to ignore is to perish.       'No more
mister nice guy'  Is not for me.   I be an unholy terror to friends and family,   not to mention the strange faces  I encounter on the streets and in the marketplace.   I drift through space and time untethered.
Like an iteration of the first walk in space:   Was It?       Perhaps not.

My apologies.
sincerely, irving
Catch yourself looking back
It’s okay
There’s good memories there too
You have to sift
Rearrange
Move about
This and that
Resisting the urge
To reach out to say
You’re sorry
For how it ended
For…
How you moved on
Resisting the urge
To reach out and say
There really was love
‘Between you and me…’
.
Then you put all the stuff back
In its place
Rearrange
Move this and that
Where you found it
Memories
The years
Piled up
Pull down the door
Lock it
And come back to it when you want to
Because you don’t live there
Anymore…
And yet you place your hand
Once more upon the door
And hope nobody saw you…
Some people live in cardboard boxes  
others between buildings
Certain individuals beneath a tent
others under bridges, or close to dumpster bins
Palpitating life on the street,
you never know who your going to meet
It can be lonely and  cold out there,  
some people's houses are made of brick and some of air
Some old folks wear pajamas at night and own heat  
others huddle in layered used clothing, shivering from cold
under garbage bags and ***** things;
I for one thank God every day for the roof over my head
No greater comfort, then owning a front door with a lock
and a furnace that works ;
A mattress with blankets, pillows that smell nice
Thank you God for all of that .
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