I know the pain you feel is deep,
your want from life is simple peace.
And though I cannot guarantee,
please listen closely, as I speak.

Presently you stroll alone,
searching for a hand to hold.
You feel your sorrow in your bones,
in harshest sun, you still feel cold.

Pre - dawn, however, is darkest night
that must be followed by morning light.
I pray you won't give up the fight,
the universe will set things right.

I know at times, it seems unclear
that happiness is always near.
But wholly I believe my dear,
someday soon, you'll find some cheer.

I hate it when
People tell you what is true
As if it's a fact
Not a matter of opinion.
I hate it when they say,
"You never know."
Because they're right.
Yet, not really.
"You will never know"
When you'll meet the one.
Sure.
"You will never know"
What will change your life.
Okay.
"You will never know."
Just because I'll never know
What can and will happen
Or what can't and won't happen
Doesn't mean I can't live
Or plan
Or do something differently.
Never knowing is what allows us
To dream.

When I was two
I was told
What to do.
When to sleep,
When to eat,
Sometimes
When to pooh.
That's okay,
In fact, it's cool,
I was two,
Not yet in school.
I can't dismiss
That life of bliss.

When I turned six
I started school;
For sixteen years
I followed rules.
I got Qualified,
I got Certified,
I got Bone Fide,
I shoulda been Beatified.
I did what I was told.
I was sold.

I enjoyed
Middle-class life,
Rising early,
Then late at night.
Worked for the man
As best I can;
Reaped rewards,
Came out unscarred
Because I was
A rules vanguard.

I'm older now,
There's no rules,
So don't tell me
What to do.
But, there's one thing
I'll tell you.

Success isn't measured
In cars and homes
(there's some success in chromosomes),
Just follow rules
To your advantage;
You're not weak,
It shows your courage.
Secure the best
For your life's voyage.

Now,
That I'm sixty-two,
Say what you want,
I'm deaf to you.

My thoughts are  LOUD
And silence, --exists still--

Silence kills
It leaves open wounds
That stings as of strong alcohol
Sipped or chugged down

Leaving me to want to sink in
Wanting not to be saved
Wanting to escape this pain
I no longer want to feel

Wanting to break the silence
Every part killing me inside and out
But too depressed to even care
For the hurt that I feel within

The silence screams in the lonely heart.
Terrorizing fears fill the void vessel.
A loyal code with the sly predator.

No one comprehends, no one befriends.
Until the silence speaks with lethal force, no one can prepare.

The wind whispered words powered by popularity.
"If they don't converse with you, they'll converse about you."
The helpless soul flew, yes without wings.
From the concrete jungle, the industrial swing.
In one breath, the silence ended everything.

**Now the next day, they all knew the silent killer.

People say, "Count your blessings".
I say, "Give me a break!"
Tell me something I haven't heard...
There's only so much I can take.

People say, "This too shall pass..."
I say, "Oh please!"
That'll happen but in the future,
What I needed was immediate release.

People say, "Oh I've been there..."
I say, "Oh really?"
But last I checked I was talking about me.
When you asked, I thought you wanted to hear my story...

People say, "Hang in there, the light will come".
I say, "***** the light! I just needed to vent!"
You wanted to hear my thoughts...
So listen and allow me to rant!

People say a whole lot of crap.
Because they don't know any better or what else to say.
When all they needed to do was...
Be there and listen... I promise it won't take all day.

There's little in taking or giving,
  There's little in water or wine;
This living, this living, this living
  Was never a project of mine.
Oh, hard is the struggle, and sparse is
  The gain of the one at the top,
For art is a form of catharsis,
  And love is a permanent flop,
And work is the province of cattle,
  And rest's for a clam in a shell,
So I'm thinking of throwing the battle--
  Would you kindly direct me to hell?

It always starts the same way.
"Hello it's been a-while."
And then half-formed regrets hidden under word layers,
wrapped up to
conceal, deceive.
A smile. Goodbye, farewell.

The ache doesn't come from parting.
Au Contraire dear one.
It comes from what-ifs, might-have-beens, should-haves;
and always the knowledge of walking away,
letting a part of you go,
a whisper on a breeze,
a prayer.