Each book’s a doorway to a far off landscape
The pages forming portals to the past
The words are my escape
From the twisted path I take
Walking all alone amidst the crowd

I stand alone within my own safe castle
A stronghold that I’ve built around my heart
I let a few get past,
Think each’ll be the last,
But every one still breaks my heart again.

The books can get me through the solid borders
That keep us bound in time and fixed in space.
They help me to let go,
And find a way to flow
In currents rife with danger and with lies

Society’s a bunch of half tamed creatures
Made wild with desire to fit in.
The books can keep me sane
And counter each new pain
That I incur when I refuse to bend

And even through the pain that this will cause me
I see my future clear and shining bright
Though now I shy in fear
Someone may still draw near
And save me from this prison that I’ve made.

Each day when I rise and I walk out my door,
The world that I see isn’t mine anymore.

The rules are all bent so I can’t see their shape,
And on every street corner I pass police tape.

When you sign onto Twitter, catch up on the news,
But it might not be true, so watch out for the clues.

They say, “Hey, you’re transgender? We can’t let you fight.”
“Oh, you’re black? Or you’re Asian? We’re best ‘cause we’re white.”

If they’re caught in their lies, they don’t overreact,
Mumble “something-or-other alternative fact.

If you glance out your window one night and you find
A torch wielding mob, well, just never you mind.

Join the big three ring circus! Its painted faced clowns,
And its ringleader with his red white and blue crown!

So turn on your TV, watch the latest debate,
And what you will see is the next Watergate.

Or just do what I do, use your eyes and your heart,
Then you, too, can watch as fear tears us apart.

Or maybe it won’t, if enough of us see,
When we all work together, we still might break free.

No oceans waters wide enough
To douse the fire in my soul
The tallest mountain still can’t crush
The music that will always flow

The spirit living in my breast
Will never bend or break
Though faltering, my heart beats onward
Pouring out in music’s ache

When Hope comes knocking at your door,
Asking for a handout in the cold,
Who among you would not spare a dime?
Then shame on you.
For deep inside you is the cold
That you shut out behind your door,
It’s brightly painted wood a mocking light
In the gloomy dusk.
So shame on you.
But each of you who gives as you can spare,
Though it be less than one might wish or need,
If with sincerity you open up your heart
To let in Hope,
Then a blessing be upon you,
For you are Hope.

A splash of noise
A crowded hall
A world of perfect
Or not at all

An empty room
A closed tight door
A bubble resting
On tiled floor

A place of talk
Of facts and dates
A place without time
For stop, or wait

A place of students
Hurrying past
Of teachers waiting
To start their class

A place where time
Is of the essence
Where nothing pauses
It’s haste’s quintessence

Hopes and dreams
Will bear me up
To challenge each
New dawn.
And when the sun’s
Last rays have set
I’ll shake my fist
At fate.

Impossible wishes ensnare my mind
And mournful tears drown reality’s view
While my heart still searches, trying to find
The one who was so clever and true

I dream that someday he’ll return to me
And my life would be what it was back then
But I know in my heart that it can’t be
And that I can never go back again

Yet still my silent vigil will I hold
To keep the ever pressing dark at bay
And keep my heart from all consuming cold
With the light of hope’s now faltering ray

And though my mind will tell me otherwise,
My cagéd heart believes it’s own sad lies