Fragile: Handle with Care

Like most things in the world,
I am fragile. I don’t want to be
damaged beyond repair. All
life is precious and delicate.
Some of us bend to no end.
Most bend till’ they break.
Some are happy as others
pretend. Handle with care.
I am fragile. I want to last:
no need for broken glass.
I assume others are fragile,
too. Only if the others knew.
Be careful with those you
hang around; they just might
break you down. Enjoy
the challenge of growing old.
Believe in your soul that
you can avoid some damage.
Be fragile: handle with care.
We all got crosses to bear.

Built to Destroy

Some are built to destroy,
to employ their evil onto
others. The good balances
out the bad. The happy
balances out the sad,
yet some are still mad.
Some are built to destroy
what others have built.
Some help fix problems
that others love to create.
The love balances out
the hate. There is death,
decay, and destruction
surrounding us. At any
moment, we can become
a part of the rubble, even
if we weren’t looking for
for the trouble. Bruised,
battered, and broken, I
look to salvage all that
I can before I kick the can.
I look to those built to
destroy and shake my head.
All that can be said is
“Don’t ruin a chance for
others to make their bed.”

No Vacancy

As the day moves, I seem to lose
track of time. I seem to forget
where my thoughts went. Still,
I feel fulfilled even when milk
is spilled. Thoughts, memories,
and feelings take refuge inside
my wide eyes. All I have seen,
heard, and felt does not melt.
What remains stays in frame.
All that I am is made up of old
times and slant rhymes. Still,
there is no room to goof off.
Now, as I move on, there is
no love lost – no cross to bear.
No fear: no vacancy: no way
to tell when all will be well.
Life is full of ups and downs
and broken crowns. It’s time
for stars to align. Believe it
to be true; it starts with you.

Broken Home

Those who come from
broken homes know
they have hands
stronger than stone.
Some don’t know
about the broken
home. Those familiar
with functional families
are all too lucky. Only
some know about it –
the pain of picking
up pieces, putting
them all together,
and hoping they fit.
Those used to
being used have it
tough. Either way,
the broken home
can help others
build their own:
the way they want.
The thing about
a broken home
is that it can be
fixed. When love
is missed, fix
the home, I insist.

Shadows

The smallest darkness juxtaposes light

Existing, utilizing its polar opposite.

Following close behind in the night.

Inching closer to us, the true cause of it.

Mimicked and mocked, I continue to move

Regardless of the broken half of me

Dragging along with nothing to lose

…But time

And no ears to hear nor eyes to see.

Through each journey, the darkness is there

Tapping my shoulder, reminding the body

Of a time

more difficult and and unclear

Of a time

When feelings hurt and no one saw me.

Nothing is alone on a earth with billions of lives

Especially when shadows commit to a reveal

Those who foil a dark history with bright times

Found life in a shadow in which they appeal.

Each mountain climbed strengthens it’s figure,

Every emotion and thought sinks into its shape.

Growing stronger each day to the body it lingers.

Connected to out heels, never early or late.

It knows

How we feel and what we say

How to be with us when we are stray.

But who caused this darkness attached to our hip?

Was it us or the environment in which we breathe?

Why does it feels like oversized cargo on a ship?

Whomever it is, it’s a part of me until the earth I leave.