just a leaf left
on the pillow next to me
now, a whisper of smoke
vapor tracing your path

out the door
going back to the
limb I stole you from,
the place you must return

I rake my bed for more,
try to make
a place
for you to fall

again, next time.

One of us will be tall
One of us will throw a ball
One of us will fall
One of us will climb a wall
One of us will feel small
Some of us are nothing at all

i sit here clutching
pen and paper to my chest
with nothing to say

Beyond these unyielding doubts
cast upon me like rust-splintered chains
haunting my every thought
my every breath
there is reason
for my existence
the strength of which carries me beyond the fog
from which these chains are cast

there is purpose in my struggle
a light that burns unrelenting
searching the summits
riding the storms to their end
darkness be ******
the rain and wind of change
only serve to make me stronger
more determined
to write these thoughts
that lay in waiting
for those willing

I remain a poet
in this age of the dying word

...Reticent
Requiring solitude
Nothing superficial
Nothing profound
To
Be
On my Own
Not a sound
No music
No guns
N o controversy
Not
A
Sound...
For a while
Let me sit
And stare
And
Not care!

Although people have similarities
We are All  unique...    
Like. *
A snowflake.