I thank God
For taking from me everything He has taken
and
For giving to me everything He has given
For every step has a purpose of its own

"Thank You" -JP

Exhausted
Trying constantly
To shed all those days
That have long since passed  

"Passed Days" -JP

The Mason and His Statue

at first, I am a block of stone
and you are a chisel
carving pieces of me away
and then you are a diamond drill
and then I am polished
mounted
wheeled out of the room covered in stone dust and into the liquid darkness of a hallway
and ten arched windows pass me by
for the very first time I can see the sky

I’m in the middle of the room
with a nameplate on a stand beside me - did I have a name before?
I’m just me
and there’s more of me all around me
standing
sitting
eyes reaching… quiet.
The doors open and the footsteps arrive
I hear water outside and see out the windows at the end of the hall and sometimes if I’m lucky they open them and I feel a breeze on the side of my face
but the funny part is -
the best time of day is when they close all the doors
and it’s just me and the janitor who’s mopping the floors

in case you were wondering
why I’m not there anymore
in the middle of the room in plain view on my pedestal
they took me down
too dated or too worn or just not new
wrapped me in canvas and put me in the back of a storeroom
where for the first time I experienced damp, and cold
and I learned that it was a bad thing to be old

but
then I was worn enough to be disposable
and they put me in the park
I’m by the fountain - come and find me
there’s no barriers and no nameplate telling you what to see
and yes, the wind blows and I’m a little more exposed
but I’m free

A lean plain-faced insignificant figure,
With a green ribbon around his neck holding a card,
Dressed in the same khaki clothes everyday,
Walks the walk of an old ghost that knows,
Where it has come from,
But has just been denied redemption.
Rather, he has been cursed,
With an object-less stare,
An ear deaf to the world around - and,
Long pointless hours, forcing him to give in,
To a world, he merely dared to live in.

So much has changed
to carry us this far
from that ****** up place
where we used to be
and I dearly appreciate
all you've altered in you
to be with me.

Yet no one should ever
have to fight themselves
to become other
than what they truly are
for another.

No one should sacrifice themselves
on anyone elses alter.

A bright star has fallen
Pain, and, anguish,
The world is in pain, and, anguish
Questions, questions, questions
But really these are non sequitur
Hearts weep and wail
But again, does nothing for the fallen

I stretched out my futile hands
I turned and groaned, I’m out of joint
I slammed myself against the wall.
I’m in pain. I’m in pain.
I cried but no tears no sound
Inextinguishable anguish gnawed me inside out

Can I pray? How do I pray?
Does it help, or I’m just helping myself?
Is he destroyed, irredeemably turned to the dark side?
And what if the answer is to trade places?
That the fallen may rise anew,
and given a second chance
Do I dare pray?