i wrote a lot of great poetry when i was in love
i wrote even better poetry when i was in pain
i wrote the best poetry when i realized that the two emotions were actually the same.

so much is painful
the ears can scream

here is a softness
I love you

not for your looks
not for your wealth

not for your prospects
not for your past

not for anything you can do
and nothing that you cannot

not for your speech
not for your silence

I love you
just because you *are

My paper
ached to feel stories of you
on its pages

yearned to taste the adventures
you had with my heart with every
curve of a letter

and craved to vicariously
enjoy the pressures of pleasures
on it's blank slate
every time
you trace bedtimes
stories up and
down my spine

Darkness

Darkness does not come on its own
It crusades against light delivering the unknown
The beast of remembrance compels bleak thoughts
Rearing my demons as questions onslaught

‘ Whys’ and ‘what ifs’ plague my mind
The Answering whispers billow, harsh and unkind
Muted tears evinces cloaked torment and misery
While my love sleeps peacefully unaware beside me

A bleak sky halting the high.
Droplets bounce and illuminate minds.
Slipping south surrounded by sighs.
The trees give up, watch on, and die.
Monotoned musings falter at times.
The Earth looks on with a cheshire smile.
Suffocating in air as the world goes by.
Then look up and ask...why?

When  you  go  down  there.
The  settings  so  grand.
And  you  might  see  my  friend  there.
Playing  in  his  band.

The  sun  minting  coins
on  the  surface  is  grand.
Casting  shadows
across  on  the  land.

The  setting  so  grand  there.
And  fills  you  with  hope.
In  this  mad  world.
It  helps  you  to  cope.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK. 2017.