All about my written words.
The train pulls away
I wave goodbye
I smile as you leave
So you don’t see me cry
The train picks up steam
Rolling down the tracks
Taking you away
But may bring you back
I stay on the platform
Holding it together
Knowing you need this
To make you better
Faced with an unknown fear
Not knowing which way is up
Reaching through the unknown
Survived so much from the past
Yet still wanting to crawl back
Towards the familiar
Rereading records of old
Heart bleeding on tear soaked pages
Still can’t believe I’m here
The bridges are burnt I can’t go back
I stand on the precipice longing
For what I knew
It all started as a distraction
To keep from looking towards the breach
Without looking, now falling
Farther than I thought I could
Because I desired avoidance
Rather than success
Heart strings entwine
Into terrible knots
Too complex to untangle
Or explain using ink blots
Start loving without a need for love
Send love into the world
Rather than pulling it in
The knots will untangle
As the strings stretch out
Peace will replace the knots within
Take out the trash
Wash the walls
Mop the floors
Vacuum the halls
Clear the cobwebs
Repeat every spring
After the winter melt
To clear the hand
Of what was dealt
Begin again, renewed
Face the seasons ahead
The only obstacle in the way
Is getting out of bed
On Thursday night I waded into a sea of pink
Not caring what anyone else would think
Knowing that people in the drink
Do more than wear the color pink
They swim upstream even as all seems lost,
As hopes and dreams are dashed and tossed.
They fight this fight, and will until it is won.
They swim and swim until it is swum.
As friends, family and strangers falter, flail and sometimes drown
The pink tides raise them higher, floating over rocky ground.
As Friday morning came around,
This sea of pink was more profound,
Winding its way from solid stone,
20 long miles until it hits home.
The sea of pink surges with a tide,
Held within every pink shade, in every pink stride.
Saturday morning dawned anew
This sea of pink took on a deeper hue,
Crashing waves 20 miles further upon the beach.
By nightfall children play within its reach.
The sea of pink closed this night,
Dancing its dance under pale pink light.
Sunday begins as tent city goes down.
The sea of pink starts moving the crowd.
Tales are regaled of what we have done:
20 more miles, the pain, the trouble and fun,
Of the fight we just fought and all it will do,
The sea of pink describes its every hue.
Wading in swimming along with the crowd,
Walking 60 miles over unsure ground,
I feel what I have done; I am so proud.
A pebble thrown
Into the lake
Creates a ripple
Amidst a wake
Each wave grows
Momentum abounds
Crashing ashore
Soaking the grounds