The Path to Destruction

The path to destruction
Is often paved with high hopes;
Travelers think that they are Eden bound
Before reaching the end of their ropes.
Warning signs are hidden
Or simply ignored along the way;
Once you pass the Point of No Return,
In Destruction you must stay.

You might be travelling upon this path
With Deception at your side;
Denial and Naivete
Might be acting as your guide;
Your intentions might be honorable,
Your heart in the right place,
When you hear the Conductor shout,
“Next stop is the Port of Disgrace”.

The journey can be aborted,
The path can be retraced,
But you must be the one to stop it,
Only you can apply the brakes.
There are people there to help you back
To a path of righteous ends;
But, you must be willing to say good-bye
To all of your destructive friends.

Empty Hangers

There are empty hangers in the closet where her dresses used to hang
There are dents in the wall against which my head I did bang
There’s a pillow, unused, on the bed where she would lay
There’s a void in my heart ever since she went away

Like the air that I breathe, I didn’t know I needed her
Like the sunrise each morning I just assumed would occur
Like the food I consumed to help keep myself alive
I’m not sure that without her I will continue to survive

The smell of brewing coffee no longer sifts through the house
No longer can I watch my love unbuttoning her blouse
No longer can I taste the lips that once said she loved me
No longer will my future add to our history

There are empty hangers in the closet where her dresses used to hang
There are dents in the wall against which my head I did bang
There’s a pillow, unused, on the bed where she would lay
There’s a void in my heart ever since she went away

The lessons I have learned are too late to apply
There’s no need to ask the question – I already know the reasons why
I took her for granted and all she meant to me
Why she had to go away, is no mystery

There are empty hangers in the closet where her dresses used to hang

Your Final Rhyme

I’ll be your walking stick
I’ll be your white cane
I’ll be your medicine
That helps relieve your pain
I’ll be your hearing aid
I’ll be the stent inside your vein
I’ll be your memory
Should you go insane

In other words, I’ll be your man
Until the end of time
And if you were to be a poem
I’d be your final rhyme

The Path I Have Taken

If the path I have taken were different
There is a chance we never would meet
That is why every misstep taken
Gladly, would I repeat

Every pain that I’ve ever suffered
Every debt I must repay
Every bad memory that has been buffered
Most certainly, I would replay

I would never risk our paths not crossing
I would never chance a different destiny
I would never wish for a story with an ending
That doesn’t include you laying next to me

When Your Father Dies

No matter how important a man you become;
No matter how high your stock should rise;
A piece of you remains a little boy,
Until your father dies.

No matter the accomplishments you should achieve;
No matter how you look in other people’s eyes;
There is always someone for you to look up to,
Until your father dies.

No matter what other people expect;
No matter if your success is a huge surprise;
There is always someone who has faith in you,
Until your father dies.

They say a man’s best friend is his dog,
But that’s just one of many lies,
You never appreciate the best friend you have,
Until your father dies.

Challenging Defiance

It is good to be comfortable with who you are.
But, is it good to be complacent and not strive to be more?

I see so much chest pumping and defiant shouts
By people announcing they are who they are;
And, I wonder,
Is that healthy or simply defiant?

Now, don’t get me wrong,
I am not asking anyone to change to please me,
I just want to know if that means you have given up on trying to better yourself?

Not better your financial position;
Not increase your number of friends;
Not be happier or healthier or wealthier;
But, just simply, be a better person.

I am fifty-six years young,
And, yes, I am who I am.
But, I certainly hope I am not who I will be tomorrow;
I hope that guy is a better version of this one – if even by just a little bit.

So, no, you do not have to accept me for who I am.
If you have a problem with who I am today,
I simply ask that you be patient with me;
Tolerate my shortcomings as civilly as you possibly can;
And help change me into a better me tomorrow.

Thanks.

The Caregiver

His stoic look on the outside
Cries like a baby beneath the façade
The opportunity to unveil his sensitive side
He would welcome and openly laud

But, this front he must maintain
Within, control his pain
Suffer silently and in vain
Until she is whole again

Shadows in the night no longer scare him
The demons he confronts roam in the light of day
Although medications attempt to snare them
With her sanity they have hastened away

His stoic look on the outside
Cries like a baby beneath the façade
The woman he tries to stay strong for
Exited the stage, but no one applauds