It was bright red, The apple from the garden Where he laid his head.
His name, a sound that made ladies swoon Brought great women to their knees Turned some to mush too soon For them to realize what transpired What changes were made That the garden bed inspired
“Come, see the earth that lies beneath my feet,” He would say in so many words “I’ll show you a garden full of love, Full of tenderness, care, and everything sweet.”
One-by-one they came For a promise that was bright red A promise that fed them instead, Slowly fed them lies, deception, and emptiness Like a poison strong enough to lure But gentle enough to be obscure
They’ll never know how it happened How they bought into the lies They’ll only know that the red Was so bright it filled their eyes With hope for a love everlasting While the lies he continued casting
But they bit into the apple The promise The poison that left them wanting more That only served to close the door On who they were before. Now lost, abandoned, alone The apple that promised love eternal Rotted their hearts, their lives Rotted them down to the bone.
The moment you walk in you know him. The space is small, which reminds you he doesn’t need or ask for much. Prints tell you where he’s from, pictures tell you who he loves, medals tell you what he’s done, and books remind you, remind him of a time of innocence, a place of escape to a world unlike his, to a people who save mankind perhaps even saving him from the cruel world around him.
But what you know of him is more than his possessions.
There are two lamps. He likes it bright. It’s how he lives life, he shines. His bed is central to everything; everything else is peripheral. It is where he spends time with his love, making memories to last a lifetime. It’s where they laugh, and love, and write each others’ stories. His bed is also where he can rest. Rest is critical because he knows that without rest he can’t run, he can’t read, and he can’t make sense of his life, of where he’s come from and who he has the privilege to live this life with.
His room. His life. One and the same. It’s who he is.
They say it’s giving up to walk away Life is a series of choices To fight, run, walk, limp, and stay The reason doesn’t matter they say
Maybe it’s a race that you decide to not quit but to finish instead So you move forward, work through the pain, just keep looking ahead Maybe the job pays well So you stick it out and work through the hell You’ve lived to seventy-five Though the sickness has progressed Just fight to stay alive Relationship has been marred You’re bruised, broken, and scarred They say none of that matters Who cares if you’re battered. You’ve built a long life, good memories, good children Ignore the strife.
But what if every day you pray to smile just one day. To not feel any pain or sorrow To live with hope for tomorrow. What if the sickness that runs through you Is too much pain, too much to bear Too much to really feel like you care What if the job that pays a meager wage Is so much hell it makes you rage What if running the race breaks you even more Takes you down to the bone, makes you hit the floor What if this fabulous life you built riddles you with guilt Of raising children in a world where fear abounds Where harsh words are spoken and tears are found
Is it giving up to walk away Or is it fighting to live another day Is choosing to let go and just rest A choice that for you is best Not running through the pain Might result in better gain Could changing your profession Turn out to be the greatest lesson Could choosing to raise your children in a world full of love In a world where blessings come down from above A place of peace in every moment, every day Be the perfect reason to not stay
I think today, no matter what they say I’ll happily make the choice To walk away
I took the road less traveled by and that has made all the difference No one thought it was funny No one thought it was sane But I burned the candle at both ends Until I burned out the flame.
I took the road less traveled by And that has made all the difference I lost almost every friend And that nearly became my preference. I did not care to hear every naysayer Every negative comment whispered in my ear I did not care to live life in constant fear.
I took the road less traveled by and that has made all the difference Less travelers, less to block my view More sight, more vision More ability to know what I must do. Because the road less traveled by Means less people by my side.
I took the road less traveled by and that has made all the difference And when I get to my destination The place that I had always known People will surround me and cheer me And say “You were never alone.” Yet I will be the wiser and stronger and better man When all is said and done Because the road less traveled by Was where I and I alone had won.
It was quiet, save one bird flying by. Waves die. Pool of glass. Dew settles cold on blades of grass.
She could not see why just one bird flew by When back home every day Flocks of demons, of problems So much heartache came her way.
This one solitary bird made not a ripple But it soared through the air. Silence did not break. Leaves stayed where they were. Sticks did not crack under foot. It all reminded her.
The bird. It knew where it flew. High enough to not make waves. High enough to see below. High enough from any trouble. High enough to learn where clear water flowed.
The bird reminded her that she could soar High above the demons that roar. She could view problems down below She could see every valley, every mountain, Forest, meadow and hill. For the few moments she soars Down below, life stands still.
A beautiful day, one single cloud in the sky, a chariot so large it carried every passerby.
The bard who sat and observed and wrote about them all, so absurd.
Golden locks, blush, powder, more blush, on she boarded Her arms full of bags that she selfishly hoarded.
Graceful lad hopped on in an instant passing the bard until alas he was distant.
Another. Perhaps a knight, walking in with his princess. What a horrible sight.
He fought everyone off, "Stay away, don't come near. I will cut off a leg, an arm or an ear."
His princess spoke not a word, she kept her head down but she snarled and growled and walked with a frown.
Oh how I miss the days my own chariot would lead me to my castle Now I board this city bus every day. What a bloody hassle!
Bodies tied to souls tied to minds If I had a dollar for every time.
Every time I turn around I see People thinking, people wanting to be free.
Freedom is fleeting, we are all bound To our own devices, to being lost and not found.
Found a body whose soul has been lost? Whose mind is no longer and with the trash has been tossed? I don’t need a dollar. I don’t need to be free. But I must confess the body that’s been found was discarded by me.
Changing another one. Will it ever end? Over and over this little one I tend. She smiles and coos, Makes my heart melt. She constantly poos Dear God does it smell.
Changing another one. Will it ever end? Over and over I would happily spend My day changing diapers As long as it meant I could keep you and love you Until my very end.
I thought I knew everything I needed to know But this life handed me a great blow.
Twenty-seven years after saying “I do” I ended a struggle I always knew.
We should wait until our kids are older So we waited until they grew. We should wait until we can’t do it any more So our love ended on distant shores.
I thought I knew everything I needed to know But a love I never knew started to grow.
It was there all along in the form of a friend I found out love does not have to end.
I have grown and waited and now I am older I waited until my love grew bolder. Now that I am here I can’t wait any more Since I found a great love on my same shore.
