There was a child once
full of  barely hidden laughter and mischief
emotions endlessly poured out and back in
like a tide tasting a new shore for the first time
Where is that child i wonder

there was a traveler once
thirsting for the experience and life seen all around
headfirst diving into the world accepting
fearing nothing and witnessed with wide eyes
where is that traveler i wonder

there was a husband once
overflowing with found shining love
joy swamping easily the baseless fear of loss
proven in horrible perfection in a moment
where is that husband i wonder

there was a father once
completely enamored of a tiny squalling form
filled with a something that could not be defined
until it was gone drained and replaced with horror
where is that father i wonder

there was a lover once
coupled a shy temerity with a respectful tenderness
opening to possible love as a flower to sun
bruised and rejected on occasion though ever hopeful
where is that lover i wonder

there was a soldier once
who stood up with passion for those who could not
heart on the sleeve and thunder on the brow
viewing the world as a problem to be fixed
where is that soldier i wonder

there was a fighter once
who smiled sadly as he fought and killed in the name of money
laughing at the jokes his companions made in desperate tones
as they hid the slowly acidic thoughtful fear of being the bad guys
where is that fighter i wonder

there was a man once
betrayed and broken by this world and his choices
looking back across the memories that swirl and sift
ashes and dust that are all the remains of a once laughing child
and i don't need wonder where that man is.

When the girl, I loved, died,
I locked myself in her room
while her parents were in Arizona.

I went through her things
and found
**** photos;
A few where she seemed
ashamed
and a few where she
liked her body.
She had a gummy smile
and in others
she looked down at her *******
while having a blank expression.

I found empty
alcohol bottles.
Cheap bottles of wine
and a bottle of red,
stuffed with tissue paper.

Under her dresser
I found an unopened
letter she intended to
give the boyfriend before me,
where she admitted
to being ***** as a teenager
and how she hoped
it wasn't too much
baggage.

I threw out the photos
and
alcohol bottles,
but not the letter.

I don't know why but I kept it.
I occasionally read it,
because it's her,
and I love her.

I told my friend
and he called me a
Halomaker,
because I made sure
she was remembered
as an angel.

"It's okay to be sad."*

No.
I'm tired of hearing it.

We aren't meant to be sad.

We are made to be ambitious and driven humans, striving to make a change and make lives better.

Don't let sadness define you.

You are more than a body that surrenders to circumstance.

Step up.

Make changes.

Find the beautiful things and the beautiful people and share them with the people who need them.

Help them realize

It's not okay to be sad.

I look at my hands sometimes
these old, battered appendages
this is how i see the world
this is how i feel
and they are weathered
scarred and hurt
but still they work
in pain and toil.

My hands are who i am
and they never will touch
you.

I gave you what I had
And you just threw it all away.
Said you were afraid of love,
But have you really experienced it?
A true love, not just infatuation.
An adoration of your heart and what you do.

The beauty you contain is unexplainable.
I gaze at you with a genuine interest.
Just draw close to me.
I'll keep you safe.

There's something better for you.
I'll lead you to it.
Just give me your trust and I will lead you
Guide you
Show you
A real love.
Something that's impossible to take for granted.

It's overwhelming.

You explore it to the end.