She has had enough
Of looking through the keyholes
of her own apologies
observing  silently
like the tiniest of dust particles
that nobody truly sees
She has had quite enough
of being that shadow that lurks within her own soul
She is sick and tired of the flag of "sorry"
Flapping high above the breeze while she is stuck
down below
just waiting as the world passes by
She has had it,
so sick of hiding within that small silent room
as the colors fly in whirls outside the tiny window
gracing the touch of her fingers
as the flutter of butterfly wings
She is ready to break down those walls
with the one sledgehammer
that she now
discovers is in the room
Rusty, standing up
In the corner
Unrecognizable but for the cloak of dust.

Dust and rust aside somehow,
she can feel it and it is unstoppable
pushing back the cobwebs in that prison cell
that she herself created
She is ready to unfurl
Fly out into the light
The horizons of her world
are already exploding
Shards of glass fly from it…
from where she's not sure
The walls pushed back through an invisible force
that simply was there
all along.
Here, feel that dance of multi-colored
Light
Coming in with each breath
As the heart and soul expand
Now there is no way
but up and out.
Timid hands open the door a crack
And like a magnetic force
She is almost ****** through
The time tunnel of freedom
Almost….
Like the tiniest of snails slides back into the
comforting shell
But then she wields it
taking charge.
Pride is on the shelf
and courage large
Sledgehammer roars through the air
and smashed walls
lead to freedom -
not slippery as the black ice she once tripped on
but as smooth and graceful as the stride
of a delicate wing
as it licks the sky
in her rising.

In the window stands a man, who neither looks in nor out. Upon his chest the weight of the world but, nothing does he feel. The sun upon his face but, the blood runs cold. Her disdain for life and love forces razors into every breathe. Wind blown passion scatters amongst the rocks. Tempestuous flowers lining the path, starving for the water that extends the grief. Tomorrow lives not, yet yesterday never dies. Her warmth and passion lights the fires in the arms that belong not. The velvety green oceans of lust peer into a dessert of agony and pain. Wantononly departing in an iniquitous journey. This pain was not asked for, but your leisurely stroll through the starry night, put the gun in his hand. The knees throb as they quiver opon the cold rock. Gentle breeze parts the hair. Salty oceans topple over the falls. Choking and stifling on the horrific nightmares prevents the end even for a moment. The pain has become a drug, and the arms open wide. Painful contentment now allows a glorious agony that some call sleep. Can this be the end of love?

Oh words fail me not
For there has to be a greater plot
Let my tongue guide the way
So the memory will ever stay

Passionate words twisted in rhyme
Makin sweet love last for all time
Visions and thoughts pouring from the pen
Captured eternity for all men

Misunderstood words upon the page
Captured forever in the paper cage
Stories of how sweet the love
Glory manifest from far above

Never more will this be sought
For hereafter it will only be taught
Poetry and dreams exposed for the sad
Loneliness and love never goes bad

Happy people live for the song
It seems to make them strong
For the notes they plea
In heaven they shall be

For the sinister twister of words
Nothing greater than the darkest birds
Line after line words unite
Such a glorious painful site

Not for glory or fame
Do we reveal darkest shame
Casting a spell for eternity
A brotherhood and forever fraternity