I remember the days so long ago
when sun was shinning and the wind would gently blow
through the maple tree in the front of the house.
Life was new again for me and for you (I think)
and I was made to drink from a heavenly cup
filled with wonder, delight, bright drowning ecstasy
that thrilled me and blew my mind into a thousand pieces.
In one day I cut the chains of bondage before a judge on a hill
and grew wings of freedom before another in the valley.
You were there and were so happy.
I saw your face and knew that nothing could be sweeter
or more delicate.
We consummated our love in a field of Spring flowers
by a babbling brook and the birds were the only witnesses
of our newfound freedom to love again.
The sky was clear that day and I am happy to say
that I was never as happy as I was at that moment.
Somewhere along the way, between then and now,
something went wrong and I don’t know how.
I endured words uttered that cut my heart to shreds
and it bled, more than you can imagine,
but I forgave, but had trouble forgetting that
I have never said that I love anyone but you.
Then there were secrets, held close to your heart,
that you thought I never knew, but I did and I do.
I hear your heart and it sends out an SOS
It whispers in the dark and I write what it says
in a book and when I look I cry bitter tears.
I don’t know what went wrong
but I am sure that I am to blame
please know that I am not like the others
this is not a game… not to me.
Love takes time, hard work, blindness…
Broken trust is something that cannot be
glued back together but must be welded
like steel and iron that has been cut with a torch.
What did I do but try my best to provide
what I could but I seem to only divide
that little morsel left in our hearts in separate piles;
lonely, upset, miserable, dejected, sobbing little piles.
There is a book that says that God Himself
collects the tears that we cry in bottles.
How many gallons does he have from you
and from me?
I pray that yours have not been at my ugly hands
and can scarcely say why mine have been shed.
I do not want you to be sad, I said that at the beginning
when things were good; maybe it should have ended there.
Good memories are so hard to come by.
I have tried to hold on to you but you slip
through my fingers like a vapor
as if my love for you has boiled away
the love that you held for me.
I want you to be happy.
I don’t care about me.
You know I hate the man that stares
at me from that polished bathroom mirror.
I have wished me gone more than you
and buried under the tall grass
where my ancestors rode off to war
and returned to plant corn and beans.
Possibly my spirit will finally be
free and will dance upon the
and you can be happy once again.
I am tormented, though, with the
What went wrong?
I must know before I go
and draw my last solitary
breath on this side of the river.
Was it me or you or them or him
WHO? WHAT? WHERE? WHEN?
My questions trouble you within
I know, (I know what you mean)
I can’t stop because the truth
means more to me than
a delusional peace; a farce.
Truth means much to a liar like me.
We always seek that which we do not
have inside our own hearts.
Please tell me so I can know
and then if you want,
I will go.