I learned this life by rote
memorized each and every note
of its quiet, unspoken song
in hopes I might one day belong.

I stand over the corpses of friendships
grief-stricken and whispering, “Please come back!”
Their unobliging souls had departed
and left me in search of greener pastures.

Country class
is city crass
you bigots, pass –
don’t be that ass.

Tear down their walls of stone and pride,
the fortresses in which they hide
turned away from their disgrace
afraid to even show their face.

We built the walls of pride and stone,
a castle which shall stand alone:
the lonely king at the top of the hill
inside the fortress of his will.

In saving those who often stray
we seek to build a brighter day –
to purge the nights with crimson dawn
and suffuse the silences with song.

The family that comes together
can face the coming wintry weather
sheltered, safe, and warm
and persevere despite the storm.

I’m thankful to the people
who showed me lessons in this life:
the importance of health and exercise,
temperance in the face of strife.

They taught me I should love myself,
so critical they taught it twice…
Oh, all the people I found wandering
who were living with the price.

I wish the storm would blow through
and wipe the stale gray skies clean
with a great deluge of blue
both terrible and serene.

I recommend you share your pain:
there’s less to lose and more to gain
in sharing your heart’s bitter brew
with dear old friends who’re tried and true.