I tripped and fell one day,
over a broken heart where it lay in shades of grey.
So consumed was I in my own dismay
that I did not see it,
though it could see me.

It had been cast aside....
or more likely, it had been set free.
Perhaps it's scars were the fee,
jagged as they were.

I mulled over the thought
as I nursed my broken pride.
I dusted off my jeans and picked up that heart,
cradled it tenderly, offered it a ride....

"Where will you go" I asked,
"I'll take you there if I can.
Though the journey may be long,
for I am just a man"....

It spoke to me then,
so clear and sincere
"I care not where I go,
though may it be away from here.
My master before you was cruel and a knave!
In this briefest of kind acts
I feel I've been saved.
Will you be my new master?"...
"Words of disaster, hush now" I say,
for I am not king
nor prince,
and you are no slave" I replied...
The heart cried.

"Thank you kind sir
for your warmth and the ride,
am I heavy?" it asked...
"No" I lied...

for it's burden was great
and had been carried for years,
this crushing weight seemed too much
for only one to bear.

"It's cold out here" I said,
"have you nothing to wear?"

"Nothing" it said
"for I have been laid bare...
and left alone in the dirt".

"Then please you take my shirt,
may it cover your hurts
if only for a while,
I'll tender your wounds
mile after mile
until you heal".

"Who are you"? It asked of me
"are you even real"?....

"I am no one" I said,
"though you know me to be real,
for we are the same."

'I have not a game,
nor a name,
nor a plan."

I am no one" I said,
"for I am just a man".....

I write through the words I could not speak,
for every teardrop, lying on her lonely lips;
she is my sunset before night comes awake,
she is my poetry, in my dreams, when I sleep.

I write on the silence embraced by the night,
for every hope, foresee but strength to move;
I cast myself away from the shadows of life,
she is my poetry, in my eyes, when I love.

I write those heartaches she tried to seclude,
for every doubt, which ever maimed her feet;
she is a one perfect love story to be told,
she is my poetry, in my grave, on my death.

Even when I’m alone,

I feel as though you’re near.

I shudder not of the terrifying breeze,

but because I feel your presence.

Anytime, anywhere,

everyday, every year;

constant guidance,

fulfilling life.

I still wish that you were there

to wipe anyway my tears.

Only a little while longer

till I see you again.

The shadow is always there
Whether physically
Or only in my mind
How to give love
To the one who still and always
Will love another.

Haunted by the love he had for her
Unsure of the love he has for me
The love of his life gone
Never to return
While I stand beside him
He being the love of my life
Wondering if a person can ever
Truly love again after loss.

Scared to always be second to a ghost
Do I stay or grieve the loss of the one I love
Tear drops fall from my eyes
Sorrow fills my heart
So much to risk and yet
There is love shared
Will time heal his wounds?
Or open mine…….

Reach back
Smell the ancient cigarette smoke
On pages soaked
With the sweat of lost love

Cramped hand
Suppress bile rising like waves
Do not read
Better off to forget

Faded heart
Etched on the empty shell of memory
Forever burned
By your stolen embrace

The sun sets,
Another day past,
I can finally close my eyes,
At last!
One day I will fall,
Or I'll go down some way,
And I can just pray,
That today's not that day.