Pictures symbolize several subjects-
Love painstakingly, perfectly photographed,
Emotions lost in light,
Almost sickly saccharine in their ability to slough sincerity,
Seemingly poised, precisely timed,
Even when we were truly walking on air.

Few truly recognize that love
Organically stems from care,
Rarely does one never have to try.
Grateful is he who goes with those he loves beside him.
I felt too much, felt too hurt because my efforts to try were in
Vain, you didn’t truly want to get better. I couldn’t help,
Even when I wanted to scream my love off of rooftops.

My mistake, I should have known that when
Emotion runs too deep, pulling away is the last thing to do.

I can’t believe I walked away,
Let myself be so selfish as to withdraw,
Let myself leave you there and let others help.

And still I wonder why I did not let myself continue to hold you close,
Leaving you wondering what happened,
Wondering why did I constantly withdraw, further
And further from you
Yet now you’re in a hospital, a care center, a hospital again
Still after five months.

Look at that photograph
Of you on that wall, arm around my grandmother.
Vibrant, full of life, look at how happy you were!
Even though I had to ask her who you were.

You’re in a photograph on the wall. You’re happy then.
Oh, but you don’t seem so now. Did I do this? Is it me that
Usurped that jubilancy? I shouldn’t have let myself let you go.

Please forgive me, I’ll always love you.

I'm not going to preach about the afterlife,
or better places that are beyond the light.

But neither am I to say that there's nothing at all,
For what's on the other side, well, no one knows for sure.

Because like death, life can be just as confused,
Just a few examples to keep one bemused.

For there are those who live a life on deaths door,
Yet they some how make it beyond ninety-four.

And there are those that lead a lifestyle of decay,
Yet somehow make their 81st birthday.

Then there are those, those like you,
those that have had to suffer and endure,
A death that is seen, as somewhat premature.

It doesn't seem right, fair, or just!
It can sometimes make us doubt Gods trust.

Then there are those that simply have no future at all,
born into disease, famine and war.

It can sometimes make us consider with despair,
is there really a God out there?

But let's all just take a breath and  take a seat,
before our hearts fall apart and we start tearing at the seams.

For I know if  you were here with us now,
that you would know only too well,
yes life can be cruel, bitter and unfair,
but that we mustn’t dwell.

For the best way to say our goodbye,
is to hold our heads up high,
and remember you for the sheer courage and grace,
that you have shown, until your resting place.

write a poem.
its been two long years
and i fear I don't even know what a poem is.
i fear i've never even written one.
i look back at my fleet and
i see forced words
prematurely picked
from their fields.
****** into the arena as dogs
with their tails glued to their thighs.
i fear i have succeeded at preparing
a dish of underdeveloped corpses.

I think we all have our, "Hold on," moments.
Our, "Wait a minute," moments.
The, "Stop and breathe," moments.
I feel like we jump too early,
Or we close our eyes too late,
Premature to seeing something that scares us most,
Unable to get a good look at the attacker.
Take this into consideration;
One, breathe but don't inhale too loudly for your fear will hear you.
Two, stand your ground but don't stand too tall because it's like challenging a broad shouldered victor in the room.
Three, listen closely but with caution,
You might hear something you do not want to hear.
Four, wear your smile like a pendant but if you do beware,
there are people willing to take that smile and brandish it with their own chemicals.
Do not underestimate yourself,
For your body is a gun to which only you have access to the trigger so when you go off, do not blame anybody but yourself.
If you have exposed your trigger to another do not let them anywhere near you for your trigger will be their new weapon of choice.
Five, please don't expect to hand your fully loaded body to another and to be put upon a shelf and shown off because baby,
They will empty you chambers,
They will hold you like a threat,
They will own you like your name isn't on the document that is your skin,
Baby, they will load their own bullets into you like you're the one at fault for firing because you thought handing your body over to somebody you love would not pull the trigger.
I know it is not your fault but the jury does not think so.

Three early birds broke the flying record today,
Under a ball of yellow light and sky of white cobwebs,
Uphill, amidst a godforsaken town,
At the far end of the deserted residential area,
In front of our binned and bagged house,
On the peach tiles of our topsy-turvy garage,
Inside a scroungy cardboard box,
Between the wasted space and rotten nest made of broom,
Where they left their bodies mushy and misshapen,
Where a colony of red ants now celebrate for a carrion feast.
They flew higher than any in their kind could ever reach,
That they went straight to heaven,
Early for their embellished feathers and wings,
Early for their final cartilages,
Early for their full-grown beak and claws,
Early for their black, beady eyes,
Early for their last rites,
Yet for us to forecast the bad news,
Yet for us to get off of our plastic chairs of indifference,
Yet for us to drop our glasses of lemon juice and inattention,
Yet for us to fumble outdoor and crash the ceremony,
Yet for us to solve the mystery,
Of whether the ball of yellow light radiated enough to fry,
That the three early birds had to fly the coop to oasis;
Of whether our mother's frenzy gave a cold welcome,
That the three early birds had to say goodbye when she tossed the box out;
Of whether I am to blame for yesterday's miracle
Of finding their home attached to the open bottom of our air-conditioner,
Which turned into a tragedy of a falling baby out of excitement,
That the three early birds felt like it was time to join their fourth sibling once again.
Indeed, too early
For the three siblings endowed with a mother and a father,
For mankind is blessed enough to have such a thing as family,
Who claimed the three early ones before the garbage does,
Who could've been proud parents in the future,
For witnessing the becoming of their three youngs
Who came out too soon,
Who were traceless of eggshells,
Who never knew a father,
Who were ****** enough to even be abandoned by a mother,
Who never knew if she even came back for them,
Who broke the flying record.
Indeed, too early.
After days of packing up sentiments,
Donating valuables,
Throwing away memories,
And leaving behind possessions,
I thought, for a moment,
We could save something
But we couldn't.

I will break you
and rip you to shreds
in the most beautiful
and outstanding way possible

When I leave,
you will question
whether it was bliss
or an misadventure
to your heart.

We talked about fun
A night of one and one
Two adults out dating
Not a lady-in-waiting.
Two people holding hands,
We didn’t have any plans
Not saying words like never
And always and forever.

It’s an unwritten verbal contract
With just the one signature.
The expectancy of longevity
Is more than a bit premature.
It is important to recognize it
When it’s all about fun and games.
It keeps temperature from rising
And avoids the calling of names.

Then it all got turned around
And quite suddenly I found
There were rules for me to obey
Like staying out too late in the day
And things I had to do with you
If I wanted to demonstrate I was true.
It was no longer important to you
It was not enough just loving you.

It’s an unwritten verbal contract
With just the one signature.
The expectancy of longevity
Is more than a bit premature.

I am a prisoner in your heart
When did my sentence start?
How long will I have to serve?
How did you get the nerve
To change a delightful love affair
Into something that would scare?
Sorry, I have to call a halt
You know it’s all your fault.

It is important to recognize it
When it’s all about fun and games.
It keeps temperature from rising
And avoids the calling of names.

We only had a few short dates
We barely made it to third base
And yet the thing is totally shattered.
You’re out looking at china patterns.
There were no promises ever made.
I do not mean to be throwing shade
But this is not the thing I agreed upon
Whatever we once had is now gone.

It’s an unwritten verbal contract
With just the one signature.
The expectancy of longevity
Is more than a bit premature.
It is important to recognize it
When it’s all about fun and games.
It keeps temperature from rising
And avoids the calling of names.