They sit it a box
Under the bed,
Waiting to be opened,
Waiting to be fed.
And to their dismay,
Well, I hope they understand
I can never see them
Or hold them in my hand.
Oh, I left them there on purpose
With a hope but to disguise
The real pull within me
The truth to realize.
I wish I could explain
Just tell them oh but once
I shoved them there in earnest
And it must stay as such.
They cannot hope to comprehend,
Those broken memories,
That everything they now hold
Was once you and me.
                                           tsk

I don't believe in soul mates.
She could be good for him.
Who is to say.

                                                 But I also believe that some are better together
                                                             Like I would like to think you and I are

But sadly.. I don't believe in soul mates.
So maybe we aren't going to happen.

Idle hands:
Idol hands.
One the same,
Not sure again.
Sit on the fence,
Yet who owns the yard?
The power of that prince
You disregard.
You forget the One
Who called you here;
Now to decide,
The choice is near,
For He said "hate your
Parents, sister, brother"
So if you don't serve one,
You serve the other.
                                     tsk

They say the sea
is a place for freedom,
for the strong willed
and the liberal spirits.
They say the country
is a place for humility,
for the hard workers
and the level headed.
They say the forest
is a place for mystery,
for the subtle explorers
and the quietly brave.
But the sting of the salt,
the pull of the grass,
the shade of the trees,
they haunt me so:
for there is only one place
I could ever belong,
and those arms, that heart,
have long since departed.
                                                   tsk

When it's three am
and the cold water splashes
against your face, wiping
away the sweat of another
nightmare,

When it's just about noon
and the old fork clatters
from your hand, moving
beyond the loneliness of another
meal,

When it's half past six
and the exasperated sigh escapes
from your lips, easing
aside the tension of another
day,

that is when I hope you recall,
remember, that once--
much more than once--
I was your gratifying well,
your overflowing banquet,
your everlasting breath.

Another choice
Another line
Another symbol
Another rhyme
Simple diction
An extra word
Punctuation
Pentameter
A mournful meaning
A broken heart
Another poem
It's my art.

A fragile little rose
(It's always a rose)
Petals clinging on for life
(Are they ever healthy?)
Soon to fall to the ground
(Probably smoothly)
And be trampled underfoot
(I dare say it's a symbol).