Breathe.

Settle yourself.

Try to understand.

We were meant to love.

And if we can not love, then we were meant to try to love.

And failing that we were made to breathe.

And try again.



-Sean Critchfield

People do not need to be fixed,
But understood,
People will never understand
In all likely-hood,
Even if people knew what to do,
How many could,
And if these people had the power
How many would?

People do not need to be fixed,
But understand,
We feel sad sometimes,
But that's grand,
And at night we like to be alone,
With our feet in sand,
The sea is beautiful and quite sad
We'd sit for eternity on that strand.

People do not need to be fixed,
They are perfect.

the house next door makes me
sad.
both man and wife rise early and
go to work.
they arrive home in early evening.
they have a young boy and a girl.
by 9 p.m. all the lights in the house
are out.
the next morning both man and
wife rise early again and go to
work.
they return in early evening.
By 9 p.m. all the lights are
out.

the house next door makes me
sad.
the people are nice people, I
like them.

but I feel them drowning.
and I can't save them.

they are surviving.
they are not
homeless.

but the price is
terrible.

sometimes during the day
I will look at the house
and the house will look at
me
and the house will
weep, yes, it does, I
feel it.

There’s a box I bolted my sorrow
But hear it knocking kicking to be out
I keep it telling I’ll free you tomorrow
His prison he will break one day no doubt!

For the box gets old and the lock grows rust
And sans my feeding sorrow isn’t any frail
Bides time in prison knowing one day must
It’s going to be free have me in its spell!

I write happy poems breed smiles as mate
Use all my ink to drown sorrow’s voice
But sorrow in silence goes spinning its net
I hear its cries rend sounds of joys!

There’s a box I bolted my sorrow
And would rather not worry when it breaks free
I’m more than happy it’s locked till tomorrow
written on the box to be cheered by daily!

Tiny special sparks of life
footprints in the sand
waves and waves of swaying butterflies
dancing daisies
singing bees
the light in your eyes
I live for that

Sweet kisses late at night
you touch my lips
soft caresses
miniature goosebumps
the love in your eyes
I live for that

Silly gestures
making faces,
and poking fun
jokes, the odd quirky dance
the laughter in your eyes
I live for that

These days,
I live for that,
the passion,
the sparkle,
the enjoyment for life;
in your eyes.

So there's a new kid in the classroom
and the other kids all stare
as he comes and sits right next to me
"Why's he sitting there?"
He's not your average schoolboy
he has the darkest stare
that threatens all who see it
thundering through his messed up hair.
He glares at all the others
as his choice they mock with glee
the pretty ones all clucking
as to why he would choose me.
But here he sits, unmoving
solid stone with stormy eyes
while I control my longing
for his hand upon my thigh.
He really is quite dreamy
in his own peculiar way
so I'm scribbling in my notebook
trying to find words to say.
Now he's staring at my notebook
I'm exposed, I want to die
as he reads these words I'm writing
and puts his hand upon my thigh!!!