Over half a hundred years
and still I journey on.
At times I'm left to wonder
Where all the years have gone.

Memories that hold the proof
that this life was really mine.
Reflecting as I sometimes do
was it fate or predestined line?

Did I make real choices
that took me down this path?
Or did some cosmic scheme
shape every tear and laugh?

Is all I am and all I've been
of unique and individual shape?
Or was I made to be like this
taking part in manufactured jape?

If some hand does guide it
and I be but actor in some play,
What point in this life I have,
for it to be played out this way?

Of course there is no answer
that I can ever be sure to know.
So I just blindly journey on
to wherever this line might go.

Random course or predefined
my day to day follows every bend.
And over half a hundred years,
I am so much nearer to its end.

Walls enclose so many things,
and often have no doors,
a mind can have so many rooms,
without obeying spatial laws.

Dark or light the varied rooms,
where thoughts can play at games,
to fill mansions of many floors,
and tenants have unforgotten names.

Nights where faces come and go,
all marching from distant past,
but all were gone so long ago,
from the first face to the last.

Time that ebbs at varied pace,
as memory plays out the parade,
recalling all the ones once lost,
and those who never stayed.

Universe of lonely empty feeling,
all that memory has now become,
No sense of being yet still alive,
just a chill that leaves you numb.

A heart that once yearned for love,
of the promise that it can bring,
but yearnings perished long ago,
to become this sad and lonely thing.

Her brown eyes shine like the sun
Her soul reflects in them as I become undone
Weakened by her voice, or at least what it used to represent
Blessed to have had such memories, even with the overlying resentment

In my head our song plays when we eventually meet
How eventually has turned into nothing, as I admit defeat
How this poem is a requiem, as well as an obituary
To the death of our love, the wakeup call of fate
And even as we never even had a first date, meeting up now would be too late
Must our favorite songs be played at its cemetery?

Your hands seem soft, at least your photos say so
Your life seems so lonely, or am I projecting?
I miss back when this felt real, and it wasn't infecting
My heart to lie on the spot, defend you like a true attorney
While you carry on with life, as I become a bitter memory
A reminded of better days, when friendship meant all the world
When I was some guy, and you some girl
When kissing you was over the limit
But snuggling felt second nature

It’s over, to those reading this I've lied, yet barely at that
She was amazing, even worthy of Being a wife
But life interfered, where love could never reach
And lust disrupted where life experience could never cheat

Forgive me, yourself, even forgive life itself
I wish I could hold your hands, and be there in your cries for help
And be the rock, albeit pointless
I wish to be your guide, as you are my reason
I the diary, you the pen
You the rain, I the bucket
I the maestro, you the order less Singer
Never following my instructions and making me jealous of anyone who calls you "theirs”.

I sound like I’m obsessed; I sound like I cling to your image and not yourself.
I am... In denial to my love to what was and could have been
It was special, but it could have been real.

Had we met sooner or later, would you do the same?
Or would life take it course as we find love opens doors?

I'll never get that answer, and I've bit my tongue to respect your ears
To keep away your fears
I'm sorry that your sorry, that you regret
And had things been different, this piece would have a better ending.
Till the universe resets or in the next life... May our feelings rest in peace
Even when mine fight for revival
Let the cemetery rest as you have

This question makes me contemplate
Could we have sooner, or were we too late?
Was it destined, Foretold? Did we know all along?
Just Ecstasy? Easy Gold? Is this where we belong?
I thought long and hard

Did you remind me of better days? No, actually
Making me move forward, towards the light of vitality
For every pained memory I felt from then till now
You helped release me from them, to you I offer a tearful bow

Was it a savior complex? For a while I'll admit
I was still uneasy, rarely wanting to persist
Perhaps letting my guard down is what made me realize
Just how many tragic memories you kept behind your eyes
Was that what made us so compatible?

Perhaps its cause this is the first time I feel confidence
To blindly walk into you without prejudice
Openly assuming you feel this way too
And just how easy it was to say "I Love you"

Was it ******* attraction? To me physically wanting this?
Or how your voice calmed me down in it's sugar-coated bliss
Your hazel eyes, your voluptuous hips
Your child-like laugh, your unexpectedly talented quips
With every second I think of this, my attraction truly grows
Perhaps it was Faith, but I truly love you and our odds
And deep down I know you were sent by god

I met up with an old friend
Our paths in life were differently diverse,
And yet our personal sufferings
Were of a blessing and a curse,
We shared our life stories
Each was astonished by the other,
And when we said our goodbyes
I thought, “Safe journey my brother”.

december fields
it only rains in these fields in december
for xmas is crying never comes here
people are too poor to care
for a fake invisible sky god
who may or may not exist
what exists is poverty and superstition
believing in what they can see in the day
and can’t see in the night
in omens and signs and words
oddly xmas isn’t on the list
just another working day
in the town where december rain
only falls in the fields in december
small town folk paranoid insolent
using bibles as toilet paper
how I feel the december rain

the darkness deepens and slowly sighs
as it folds itself around me
envelops me in its thick
choking love
I awaken to shallow breath
and thoughts that border on madness
my sleep is no longer my escape
but rather a harbor for the remnants
of what once was a good life