It’s high stress all this loving.

Heart beating hard now triple timed.

I’ve been parked now on the off-ramp.

In those shadows less than kind.

She’s been worried about high flying.

I don’t fret about those fears.

Riding rough and sick of trying.

Now stop crying, faking tears.

I’ve been writing a new chorus.

I’ve been looking for fresh chords.

Rich man drives fast now in a taxi.

Passing poor men in their Fords.

We all are walking in cold shadows.

Under blue skies filled with rain.

I am quiet, no more promise.

I will let you live your pain.

There’s a lesson if you listen.

To a voice that lives inside.

Telling me that it’s not over.

Doesn’t care how hard you cried.

I was walking in the shadows.

Cause I kinda like the cool.

Mama never liked the heat that much.

And would walk right past the pool.

I’m not inclined to leave that fast.

Sometimes, I like to stick around.

Spent some time there in the deep end.

Where some sinners felt they drowned.

There are sharks, and there are minnows.

There are vices, keep us froze.

I saw you dancing with your demons.

Smiling, spinning on your toes.

In the darkness, there was laughter.

In the night, I heard you cough.

I changed gears, started walking.

Was my time for stepping off.

I’ve been working on this nightmare.

The kind that smiled in your dreams.

So many ways to tell a story.

And not much is what it seems.

I tried the changes slowly.

The way the old go out in rain.

All in vain with not much Holy.

In the end, seemed quite insane.

We will batten down the hatches.

And will keep the powder dry.

I’ll keep praying here for something there.

As we sail for bluer sky.

N

There’s this feeling that’s just so nearly…

Like the battered and the bruised.

I wonder if I heard clearly.

Deep down, I’m just confused.

There’s a man who’s screaming something.

In the face of that sad clown.

There’s a juggler in the spotlight.

That didn’t use the right pronoun.

The siamese twins grow tired.

Two heads can not agree.

Cooperation is required.

No discernments they can see.

The wives they seem so angry.

The husbands have that look.

Doesn’t much matter which way I go.

Either way, I’m on the hook.

And the men

The movie has no soundtrack.

That was playing in my head.

The theme was for the living.

The plot was for the dead.

It’s a story of hereafter.

Like the myths a child’s told.

Equal portions tears and laughter.

You get the girl but not the gold.

There was something in the water.

Not icecubes or alcohol.

Was something in the air last night.

Felt like Rome before the fall.

There were whispers in the shadows.

And fear upon the vine.

I checked the beach for trespass.

Was just you that crossed the line.

The stars were out in fury.

Burning bright in yonder sky.

I had so much to tell you once.

That time has passed us by.

My mother told me repeatedly that if I didn’t have anything good to say about someone, then it’s best to say nothing.

This is also the same person who said about a couple that she didn’t particularly like: “It’s a good thing they married each other… because it would be a shame to ruin 2 homes with them!”

They said if I stared long enough into that haunting dark abyss.

That I could break the darkness and see light, I couldn’t miss.

You see, I have this peace of mind, and when I close my eyes.

I’ve made friends with the darkness; to my horror and surprise!

She said she took the measure. But it came a little short.

It sounded much like confidence. Without the backing or support.

You know I had the warning. It was right there on my tongue.

But she wasn’t much on listening. So, no words were spoke or sung.

I was in the mood for silence . You could say all words were moot.

And she had that look in her eyes. If she had a gun, she’d shoot.

Sometimes, it’s just easier to turn and walk away.

To be the bigger person and get to live another day.

They get lost in the city…

You see them mumbling; usually to themselves. They have lost everyone. None are left to listen to the complaints! The lost are the lonely…

The despair is written in the lines of their faces. Their addiction is in their voices. “Can ya spare some change?”

My guess is that they didn’t fit in where they came from either. Driven from the nest by the stronger siblings.

So seldom do they hear any words of encouragement. Maybe never…