Tears in a crowd,
it’s such sweet pain.
My face is dry,
but my heart holds rain.
I’ve nothing left,
the tank’s run dry.
I have no strength,
not even to cry.
World weary,
barely standing.
The world’s still hungry –
still demanding.
So my bruised and wounded heart
stands among, but stands apart.
A journey begun
in fearful trepidation
ends in confidence.
Behind each and every face
hides a quiet, secret place
of happiness and sorrows,
dreams of yesterdays and tomorrows,
which we pass by, unaware,
with our protagonistic airs.
But ours is not the only story,
nor ours the only dreams of glory.
Each and every blessed day
we drift by heroes on their way
to slay dragons, to right wrongs,
each champion of their own songs.
Tomorrow opens,
not like a hotel room door
to a tiny suite.
Tomorrow opens
like a hotel exit door,
the world before you.
Black suit and tie,
you make the world go around,
but you lost yourself.
So you think you know somebody,
and that what you have is real,
but your connection is their hobby,
and real was never in the deal.
They lied and cheated you,
and made you feel a fool,
and claim they have defeated you
by the machinations of their tools.
But in reality they lost
before the game ever begun;
their deception came at the cost
of what victory would have won.
For you offered them a helping hand –
what better prize in a troubled land?
“Just what would you do
if you could do anything?”
the Devil asked me.
She’s got a gorgeous smile
that can warm your heart for days;
people see it shine for miles
as they go about their ways.
Her eyes sparkle in the sunlight,
and dance beneath the moon,
defying the dark of night
by glimmering in the gloom.
Her spirit’s so splendiferous,
it’s almost luminescent;
so kind and so generous,
they say it’s effervescent.
Her friends and family claim they’re blessed
by living with and loving this goddess.
Love seems unhealthy:
jealously, anxiety,
“committed” partners.
Warm your weary heart –
not with hearty food or drink,
but companionship.
A (wise) man of two faces 