sometimes I write poems about emotions
that I have no first-hand experience with
simply because I can sympathize with how they may feel
to you
or you
or you
I can understand how your stomach can turn and twist and sink
how you can despise yourself will all of your being
and cry in silence because of something I can't hear
In hopes that some of you can understand what it might feel like
for me
or him
or her
Empathy is so rare today, that all I can search for, is sincerity in strangers
and how lucky I am to have found a stranger to love, a lover to understand
and how lucky you could be if you found empathy in strangers
and if strangers could understand it all.

Suicide to save their pride is what they said when they lied.
How it was to save face to not appear as a disgrace.
Sadly their claims hold no base when you see their life lost pace.
Instead they lived with fears and covered their face with tears.
As we call them selfish and a coward we do not see how they became overpowered.
While we live with the reluctant truth that things are different from our youth.
Life is dark and full of lies and selfish people ignoring our cries.
And when some try to reach out a hand they are reluctant to show they cannot stand.
It is not one person's fault, instead it is societies halt.
The stoppage of love and empathy which has discriminated sympathy and the birth of apathy.
So let us recognize the selfish few who cannot reach out to you.
Go to them and show them love because it is what they need from above.

The melancholy of the wasteland
satiated: pinned down by bliss.
Hanging lamps with unnerving smiles
flickering with murderous intent.
Gas lines are primed and poised
for one hell of a barbeque.
Altruism amounts to nothing
when vultures are involved, adorned in gold.
All seeing death machines
do figure eights across the sky
Spewing heat from the mouth
moves the shadows amongst the darkness.
A rogue wave capsizes sycophants
the weak are run aground
mad, grinning like a facsimile
amongst the remains of a heart
that's imploded.  
Even bloated whales consume for greed
picking dignity from their teeth.
Deny them the glory of being written
if you can pry your eyes
from the T.V. screen.

Tearstains unlock doors
You reach out in darkness and
Ask for me to come inside

We sit in the space in your soul for
Hours pouring out our hearts
Until the light peeks through the
Crack under the door

Stepping out you dance away
Into daybreak without farewell
Leaving me in an empty shell

My poured out heart is
A puddle on the floor that
You didn't embrace the way I did

I might see you again
When it gets dark
And you recall
Just how miserable
Seclusion is

Welcome back
I've been lonely

Your time on earth is over;
I miss you very much.
It is all so brutally final;
No voice, no face, no touch. 

I try to reconcile
This spectre we call death;
It creeps into our lives
Like a stealthy chilling breath.

We all must face this demon
For none can avoid its stare
But hope and human nature
Mean we lose but still can care.

I love how you have a "Life is good" tire cover
When you are a bitter, callous person
Full of hate and double standards
Drunk, overworked and prideful

But at least you're trying to seem happy
I understand
Broken bonds
Bad relationships
Rejection
Loathing from your own parents
I'm sorry friend

But I can't look at the back of your car with out having a chuckle of irony

Dear the softhearted:
Sympathy won’t come.
Mourn this day
and drink its poison,
leave the ones disembodied
to haunt and garrotte.

Dear the kindhearted:
Forgiveness won’t come.
Stand thin, bloodless.
Who’s waiting at home for you?