I was reflecting on a time where I was not quite myself and "snapping out of it" was easier said than done. Thankfully, words, good people, lasting love, & prayer was available. Some of us know the feeling of hiding sadness, but know how to let it unravel when it needs to. We learned the hard way. Others aren’t so lucky. They yearn for someone to hear their silent cries. We’ve got to be better listeners. An older one, but dear to me.
there are no words for
friendships that cough up
old arguments in the dead of night;
cold & achy memories
penetrate through brick-walled hearts
& shuffle in a momentary sadness
that comes unglued in the
blink of an eye.
heroes are crack heads that sell
plaid shirts; buy one, get one free
& dingy khakis (belt-in).
gardens are cemented shrubbery,
black roses, blue thorns.
citizens scream lies in the face
of truth, regurgitating years of
fear can strangle the bloom
of a flower, stunt its growth.
& the chance of it ever
budding is slim to none.
"So, you want to be rich?
Doesn't everyone? Go on and find
yourself another dream to dream."
wicked voices wrestle nude,
bearing all while the inner-children
of shameless adults see-saw the
feelings of prey. when you've survived
the death threats from your own mind,
the world around you seems
small. in actuality, it
©Tremaine L. Loadholt 27March15