444 months ago,
Give or take a few,
And 444 miles it seems,
Are time and distance
That define a tragedy
Of my youth,

For I was too much the gentleman
And the officer,
And you in your beauty
And naivete
Or so I thought

Too young to read
The signs carved in words,
Roads miles driven,
Time in dinghy upon the Dart,
To hear the words unsaid,
Torn from my very heart,

So 444 miles were complete,
444 months sailed past
As once past Sandquay we
Surpassed
The time we were allowed,
And DQ sanction held me fast

Lucy in the sky will sing no more,
To an audience made of one,
And ghosts of younger thee and me,
Still mourn what we might have won,
And older wiser heads and hearts,
Will wonder ever more,

What might,

Have been

I am the invisible man,
You do not see me,
I am the invisible man,
The things I have done for you, are unseen,
I am the invisible man,
The heart that aches for thee aches unseen,
I am the invisible man,
The worth I lost in you is out of sight and mind,
I am the invisible man,
The miles I drive are unnoted and unremarked,
I am the invisible man,
The love I feel is uncomprehended,
I am the invisible man,
My hurt is of no import,
I am the invisible man

However those sins of mine,
My fallibility and humanity,
My faults
My misunderstandings,
My occasional rant,
My anger,
My self centredness,
My frustration,
My expectations,
My misdemeanours,
My poor behaviour,
Every
Single
Thing
That I do wrong,
Those things and only those,
ARE seen!

I was ever affection over expectation,
A gentleman to the core,
I wanted love and the real deal,
Not *** with a willing *****,

Affection over expection true,
But laid upon a bed of want and hope,
Of Cupids arrow in my heart
But aimed and fired by who?

And there's the rub as I turn to dust,
For Cupids flight was elsewhere,
Not near me nor near mine heart,
His bow and arrows dormant,
And starting now
To rust

I have been my own castigator far too long,
I have beaten myself up for my misdoings,
And rightly so but no more!
What matters is not the man I have been,
It is the man that writes these words,
It is the sorrow regret and repentance
In my heart that matters now,
More than that,
It is my actions moving forward,

For I am no more a monster or an ****,
Or other descriptor of how I was,
I am now just me,
The real me,
A man inherently decent; back in integrity,
A man who loves,
Oh dear Lord GOD how I love!
And just one Lord and one lady there
For all eternity,

I am a solid man with love and strength and skills,
A man who pours himself into the help of others
Often un reported and usually un remarked
Yet effective all the same,
And this man no longer needs castigation,
There is no more point nor place in it,
He needs love for sure
But more than that he needs
Permission to love

Permission to love and see that love accepted
Treasured and valued,
Permission to be someone's person and them mine,
Love is what we all are born for,
Not hate or anger revenge or retribution,
Why **** a man or his love "just in case"?
Be ready to react if it fails but
For my part it will not fail,
I will not fail,

Not this day,
Not tomorrow,
Nor any other day,