you took away all  that i had
you knocked my heart down
sharp arrow of destitution pierced through my chest
slashing my heart into two pieces of junk
which meant absolutely nothing to you
for this very end .

Mom has been gone for years
but just now I was brought to tears
from a poem about my childhood piano playing
and how she patiently listened, probably pained
Mom told me she loved hearing me play soft or loud
and ‘twas the one thing I could do to make Dad proud.

Replaying years of hurt for mistakes they made
bound me in shadows and shade,
but now late in life I again recall
the character of their care for my soul
and cherish the humanity of these two
and their suffering that got me through.

As we shout and dance about life’s mysterious game
So greedy we all are for riches and our fifteen minutes of fame
You won’t have an ounce, once you are buried and gone
But for me sharing and caring is plenty enough in this life

Maybe a bit at a time like around half of what we got
Would be ample for someone without having the lot
Then you’d realise this life is not all that it’s cracked up to be
It might take a lifetime but hopefully you would someday see
So for me sharing and caring is the real stuff of life

When you are long and gone beneath this soil we call earth
Society should admire you and pray for their own spiritual rebirth
Imagine a world full of people being able to have a second chance
I’d think we’d rid the world of war, so go on make a stance
Hopefully you appreciate what you have in this your daily life.

I always and in always, wished for the day
To come and passes by with joy in my heart
No thoughts, no self-questioning
does she care or will she? Only then I think,
spare her sometime, she’ll come around

I lived my life wrongfully with those………
Waiting for the day when my heart would reach out to your soul
Only then that my sorrows and my pains will fade
My happiness will fly high up the sky and falls down pouring; like rain
To wash away your doubts and hidden fears, hopelessness and

Restores an everlasting joy, hope and faith into your soul

I want to make a vow; I will never hurt you
I will never forsake you, I will never live you out in a cold
For my life with you is complete in a way that I cannot tell
For my life will never be the same without you

I’m not a prophet but:
For eternity I will keep trust in you
You are the sole reason that I breath
My soul is yours, hopes and desires too
You are everything I could ever need and more, you are my baby

Many cries loud out there, looking for love
For tender care, desires and hopes
But you are my angel, my miracle you all I need everyday
Today, tomorrow and for future you are the one.

Is that too much to appreciate?

what's the point
of trying..
when I know
you're just
gonna be
the same
ya I should be
more understanding
but this time
I can't help
but think
that I'm just wasting
my time..
on you
I'm getting a little sick
sick of this
always worrying about you
when you can't
can't even listen to me
am I whispering..
are my words going mute..
do they even
even mean anything
like you say they do
to you…do they?

what's the point
of caring..

she waits for the days when their eyes will meet again. the days when his arms keep the rest of the world out in order to let her in. the days when his smile beckons her to drop the armor at his feet and present her raw, vulnerable self to him. the days when her eyes drink him in slowly and deliberately to savor the memory.

until then, her laughter rings out over hundreds of miles. his caring questions touch her heart just the same. his musings about random topics never fail to rivet her. her smile lingers long after their talks, and her love never dies.

The Receptionist's counter is too close to the forever waiting room.
The Nexts are trying their patient penances;
Some seem to read;
Others appear to listen to the television;
There's no dialogue,
Except for the Dr.'s assistant,
And, the Receptionist.
Any conversation would be idle,  and not heard anyway.
They sit on pins, listening for their names.
Super Tuesday held no kryptonite for Super Joe, remarked the talking head.

The Dr. will see you in three years.
I fist pump and spin to leave,
Seeing a blur of corralled, bowed, preoccupied heads.
A frail face lifted up, and smiled for me.
Happy for me.
Truly the best medicine.