...The thing with no name,
Surrounded by sadness,
That kind of sadness
Penetrating  its silence,
That kind of silence
Searching the tears,
Those tears
Becoming cubes of light,
Those cubes  wondering
On their situation of their becoming,
Being involved in a movement
Apparently anarchic,
Needing, ''a priori cognoscible'',
Synthetic truths
And empirical postulates
On the shape of their inner dislocation,
Their shear looping into unstable equilibrium,
Needing a stable equilibrium,
Becoming emblematic symbols
Of the diminishing boundary
Between real and unreal,
That cubic thing withdrawing itself,
Slowly becoming
Memory....

One grain of sand at a time
has built up to make this rhyme.
Slowly and steadily gaining weight
the burden seemed to be my fate.
Then my poor heart had broken
when forced to have feelings unspoken.

Everywhere was selfishness and spite,
others acting like they have the right
to take without giving back.
It hurts inside, making my mind rack
and making my only solace be night,
when her and unkindness weren't in sight.

No, no, no, no. No! NOOOO!
She was driving me below.
All of the good was becoming dead,
every day disappointment and dread,
sadly dragging through my only life.
I desperately needed more from my wife.

So, I started moving on and looking out
for ways to quench the drought.
Nothing seemed to be out there
that provided the warmth and care
my mind needs to counter the world.
Nothing to fix what got knurled.

Then one day I met the impossible,
life I didn't think was cognoscible.
Now I'm drinking sangria in the park.
There is light were once there was dark.
A brightness that shames the suns sunny
I met my honey honey.