The mirror never
saw me cry.
All my tears are hidden
deep within
the vaults of my heart.

Only happy tears
rest in my eyes
and fall down
when my lips smile.

We have finally arrived at our destination.
The area was thick with silence.
That was the only difference
from the loud places we have passed through
on our way.
We felt like we have escaped the worldly lives.

This afternoon I thought about
teaching you to paint
The dust sheets flew in the wind
And upon the nettles
danced sharp cracks of white plaster
Blue shadows pooled out across the lawn
And I think I loved you

In the field of barley
Yellow sun purveyed
A static record of crickets
Light breeze lifts light linen dresses

And maybe,just maybe
If I keep pretending
Long enough
Happiness might forget
It was never mine
And decide to stay.

And if it doesn't
Atleast the light I borrowed
Kept me warm
For one more day.

To be the black sheep of the family —
what a terrible thing to be.

All the neighbors and relatives
heap praise on my super-successful siblings
and hurl insults at me
at the first chance they get.

I know all too well –
it is their jealousy of my siblings' success
that they take it out on me.

If success is measured by
money and fame,
I am not going to take that bait –
I am happy as I am.

Insult me all you can,
I can take it all in.
For you can only give
what you have,
and for that reason
I forgive you.

I remain the black sheep
of my family–
by choice,
at peace and forever free.