It is true, though,
that I'd rather leave scars
on this body I possess
and leave tears in my heart
from the lovers I've met,
than to have never lived
or loved at all.

Life is a climb, a trip and a fall.

One person finding a path
for
morals, improvement, humility,
could bring down
the wall of vice, changing
the whimper into a bang

I've wondered lately..
where your words
will take me
how you made distance
feel so close
and how easy it might be
to trust another wounded heart
it was a pleasure seeing you crack a smile through years of despair.
yes the feelings are mutual,
& I take into account how different
we lived before meeting;
two somber poets,
turning pain into beauty..
cheers to you
here's to Life
thank you for the next chapter,
with or without you.

it is not me
it is the computer

i do what it tells me to
i am puppet to the master

old reality lost
we created

we control it's true
mistakes are made

not by sentient circuits
dumb humans

You have memories
to look back on,
on-this-day ago
one year, three years, five years
ago, all-your-yesterdays

fade, perhaps repressed
or once carved with care
to exhibit the best
to omit the stuff you'd rather forget
and so the sculptor shaved

keeping with the grain
until the rather-not-dwell-ons
fell before the sweep of grace,
each scrape joining
other eliminations
to be gathered up
and cast into the fireplace.

The sculptor sanded, polished
and revealed the much loved
gargoyle within
proving once again
the effectiveness
of shaving away the best
forgotten.

While I put anger aside
And try my best to be kind
Say something nice whether true or fake
But though the world would be fine
On just love and sunshine
Sometimes all you can do is hate