I Cry When She Cries

I cry when she cries, and,
Today she cries for her father.
The man who walked her down the aisle
Leaves to me his grieving daughter.

With a failing heart he held on for as long as he possibly could;
The love he felt for his family helped him live on when nothing else medical would;
By his side, my true love sat, with her own heart breaking in two;
To her first love, her husband joins, in bidding a fond adieu.

I’ve tried my best to treat her well
The way you asked me to.
But the bar you set was mighty high
And I fall far short of being you.

I am sad to see this good man gone
But sadder still because of my wife’s broken heart.
The man she loved, way before she met me
From her world today did part.

Rest in Peace and go with the Angels, good sir.


Half the Battle

Falling in love is only half the battle
And, really, quite easy to do;
The hard part is in being the man
That makes her want to fall in love with you.

Treat her like a lady;
Shower her with compliments;
When obstacles appear in your journey’s path,
Learn how together you can circumvent.

Allow her to be right some times
Easily admit when you are wrong;
Realize that just because you are the man
Doesn’t mean that sometimes she can’t be the one who’s strong.
Know that sex is a tandem sport
At which both of you can win;
To only take and never give
In a relationship is a sin.

Show an interest in the things she loves;
Learn how to appreciate the many things she does;
Help straighten up more than once a year;
While watching her movies allow to escape, a tear;
Listen to the lessons that she’s teaching you;
Don’t be afraid of the words, “I Love You, too.”

Falling in love is only half the battle
And, really, not so hard to do;
The challenge is in being the man
That keeps her in love with you.


Long sleeves throughout the summer, in retrospect, should have been a clue,
Covering up her dainty, fragile arms tattooed in black and blue.
I thought her reserved disposition was just because she’s kind of shy,
Until I saw her wearing sunglasses to cover up a new black eye.
Her husband was the sheriff, feared by all in town;
Now I’m serving a life sentence for taking the coward down.

His anger got the best of him, right in the middle of our town square,
As coincidence would have it, I just happened to be right there.
He slapped her for interrupting, then punched her when she slapped back;
I was on my way to a softball game, carrying my aluminum bat.
When he grabbed her by the hair, dragging her to his car,
With everyone simply staring, I stepped in to say he’d gone too far.

He said, “Mind your own business, before I throw your ass in jail”;
When he started reaching for his service gun, I heard Melissa try to yell.
It was my best swing of the season, a homerun you can be sure;
The sheriff of our little town would be battering his wife no more.
She visits me on Sundays; a three hour drive, at least, each way;
She wears short sleeves now in summer, so I’ve nothing else to say.

The Dawning Day’s Cacophony

The dawning day’s cacophony, through my open window serenades;
An early bird symphony into my bedroom noisily invades;
The cawing of a murder between rat-a-tat-tat of a woodpecker’s head;
Mix with distant sounds of early commuters, beckoning me out of bed.

The dawning day’s cacophony, accompanied by rays from the morning sun,
Announce my night is over and a new day has begun.

Standing at a Crossroads

I am standing at a crossroads with no signs pointing the way;
My shadow stretches in front of me from the dawning of a new day;
No matter which road I choose to take, there will be no turning back;
Whether or not you’re on the path I choose requires knowledge that I lack.

One path could lead to happiness; another could lead to pain;
One path could lead to riches; on another I could lose all that I’ve gained;
Every journey begins with a single step, which I am hesitant to take;
But, with confidence I’ll move forward even if it is a big mistake.

I pick up all my baggage, preparing to move along;
Looking forward with my head held high, I start whistling a song;
If I meet you on this journey, I hope we can travel together for a while;
And when our paths divert again, I hope I leave you with a smile.

I am standing at a crossroads with no signs pointing the way;
I know I must move forward because I’m not the kind of guy who stays.

Compliments Unsaid

There is no guarantee that the future will become your past;
Each breath that you breathe might be the breath that you breathe last;
No promise of a tomorrow before you meet your final end;
No definitive opportunity to hug a loved one or a friend.

That confession of love, you procrastinate to say;
That statement of gratitude that you just let slip away;
That declaration of pride that for some reason you hold inside,
The opportunity to express them all may just have passed you by.

Don’t wait for the perfect time; it may never come to call;
If you don’t do those things today they might never get done at all;
Don’t risk a last goodbye with a compliment unsaid;
Don’t leave them always wondering about the silence when you’re dead.

When Politicians Play Their Games

They buried civility in a shallow grave;
Without humility the combatants all behaved;
When, finally, in victory a hand up high was raised,
They wondered, unequivocally, why the world was all a crazed.

When you enter a pact with the Devil for your soul;
When you distort the facts to achieve your final goal;
The enemies you attract tally up a pretty toll;
There’s no going back once the Devil’s in your fold.

In the dust of history only ruins will remain;
Those who caused the misery infamously will be named;
The Devil meticulously collects his souls, just the same;
When, quite viciously, politicians play their games.