You ask what’s wrong

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You ask what’s wrong,
and I can’t answer.
Not because there is no answer,
but because the answer
is too painful to speak.




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Sranding on the Edge

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Standing on the edge,
looking in,
looking around,
seeing nothing.

What do I hear?
There is sound,
but it is nothing.

I know that I’m where I should be,
but I’m here
waiting
waiting.

Sometimes we have control over life
and others we don’t
and knowing the difference
is key
to making life worth the living,
to being happy,
to avoiding being pulled
into the darkness
of nothing.

Holding on to the good in life
I know is what I must do.
Disappointment will be,
but I won’t give in again.
I’ll remember to be happy
even here,
standing on the edge,
looking in,
looking around,
seeing nothing.

I’m in charge.
Of me.
Of my frame of mind.
Of my happiness.

Even when I'm
standing on the edge.





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He Loved Her

~ ~ ~ ~





He loved her
in ways we couldn’t understand
and probably never will.
He loved her when they were youngsters,
just old enough to date.
His love held strong
through all the years
of hard times
and good times alike.
Through the challenges of raising children,
the mundane daily life,
his love for her was ever present.
Often he lashed out
with a tongue as sharp
as the bite of a whip,
yet he loved her beyond description.
I think he feared losing her.
I believe he never thought himself
worthy of a woman such as she.
She was beautiful.
She was smart, no, wise.
Her heart was big and gentle.
He knew he wasn’t worthy
of a woman as perfect as she.
When the dust of stressful times settled
they were always together,
hand in hand,
and at those moments,
the love in his eyes
when he looked at her
was beautiful to see.

I don’t know that she found life
as sunny side up as he did,
but she unabashedly loved him in return.





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