The walls that are
invisible to the eye
are the hardest
ones to break.

You're just a memory—
fading like sunlight at the edge of day,
a flower wilting in the hush of fall,
a river whispering itself away.

And yet...
hope lingers on that fragile thread of what if—
But is it worth holding on,
if all that’s left is space
growing wider
between your name and mine?

He once wrote my initials—
S.C.—
on the back of his hand
in red ink.

Bold.
Unashamed.
A quiet rebellion
against forgetting.

I wonder if the ink
sank into his skin,
leaving a mark
the world couldn't see—
but I could feel.

Or maybe it faded,
washed away with the next rinse,
like so many promises
made in passing.

Still, sometimes I wonder—
when he looks at his hands,
does he remember me?
Or did that ink
only ever stain paper hearts
like mine?

Go, then!
I know the taste of shame
Erase the guilty memories of my name
but, please, in some hidden recess of your mind
find a way, a place to love me if you can
or pity if you must
Just, please don't hate me.
Give a care that I am heartsick & forgive
this contagion crafting errors of my ways
mistakes that further distanced you from me
and see
I just miss you still.

Never Had A Bad Day

      Tell it to Jesus when you cry
With all your pettiness I say
Tell it to Jesus go ahead and try
Because you’ve never had a bad day

Let’s talk about the lashings
The spitting and the thrown crud
Let’s talk about carrying his own
Cross and let’s talk about the blood

Let’s talk about the nails
Through his hands and feet
The crown of thorns on his head
The reason moments from complete

The death and the resurrection
Just for our forgiveness and choice
But most still listen to the Demon
And that my friend is the wrong voice

Your petty troubles are nothing in
Compare in fact they’re child’s play
So go tell it to Jesus he’ll still listen
Though You’ve Never Had A Bad Day

Written By:Charles Kean
06/09/2025

Every interaction,
Whether fleeting or with traction,
Leads to some unforeseen action
That can cause a gaping wound.

Everyone you meet,
At your desk or in the street,
Could result in some great feat
You feel is over much too soon.

And it’s easy to lay blame,
At the ones who knew your name,
But who aren’t acting quite the same
As you’ve come to expect them too.

It’s far too easy to be the one
Whom the world has made undone,
Through the thoughtless actions of someone
That you really thought you knew.

But whether weathered by wicked words,
That were thrown at you, or overheard,
It’s really very quite absurd
To expect anything different in this game.

You know, it isn’t really about you,
Those pointed things they say and do,
That can only lead you to,
Anger, hate, and shame.

So when you feel you’re shrinking small,
And that you can’t handle it at all,
Walk through that illusory wall!
Be and do what you want to!

Remember they’re out of your control.
Don’t take it seriously. It’s drôle.
For only you can make you whole,
Or hold any power over you.