Beyond Devastated

Stopped in tracks.

Heart smashed into bits and pieces.
Door shut in my face once again.
Not sure which way to turn.

Can’t eat it away.
Can’t sleep it away.
Live in denial.
Try to wear a brave face.

Beyond devastated.
Soldier on.
Should be used to this kind of disappointment by now.
Eyes that can’t cry anymore.

A waiting game that’s much too familiar.
Depending on some miraculous twist of fate.
There’s no way I’m letting go this time.
I have no other option but to wait.

Clean Slate

No matter how hard I try I can’t erase the slate.

I keep revisiting the lies I tell myself to keep hanging on
To the thought that things will eventually go my way,
And hoping it’s not too late.

Closure is just an empty word.
We never really have it.
We are conditioned to accept our circumstances,
And be happy with what we can get.

I can’t find it in my heart to settle for something or someone less.
I cling tightly to the things and people I don’t want to live without.
I think I could wait forever for you,
You’re the one certainty that I never doubt.

Intersecting lives never really coming together,
So strong is my belief in some version of fate,
That I could stay suspended in time,
Moving forward, but without a clean slate.

Face in the Crowd

Why do things come so easily to some?

While others have to struggle to no avail.
All the doors are bolted shut,
And a closed sign hangs in the window.

Why is good fortune so unequally distributed?
Maybe to preserve the uniqueness of it all.
Is believing enough to keep us going?
Or is resignation inevitable?

Is what we are now all we will ever be?
And when should we accept who we are and won’t ever become?
Can we learn to silence the voice within us?
And just be a face in the crowd.

The thought of living just an ordinary life is frightening.
Being a slave to the nine to five grind and planning for retirement is mind numbing,
Death from boredom engulfs me,
And I refuse to accept this version of reality.


Three a.m. and my mind won’t turn off,

Tossing and turning and trying to formulate a new plan,
Trying to block out all the negative noise in my head.
Hoping to get an hour or two of sleep if I can.

The noise is always there,
Trying to convince me to accept the here and now,
Give up the dreams that drive me,
Throw in the towel.

But I’m a fighter, who won’t go down easy,
And I intend on winning this round.
Have taken more than my share of hard knocks along the way,
Refuse to stay on the ground.

I’m not afraid of the noise.
My will is too strong to retreat.
I have to find the positive voice within me,
I have to stand alone on my own two feet.

November Chill

Crisp, smoky air.

The sound of stillness.
Wind whispers through familiar trees,
Snapping off fragile leaves.

Endless night walks.
Fog obscuring streetlights.
The blue flicker of television sets beam from nearby windows.
The evening news can’t reach me out here.

My mind is clear now,
But my heart is still heavy.
I stop to pet my neighbor’s cat.
With the November chill against my face.

I pull my hat over my ears,
As misty rain drops start to fall.
I stare up at the hazy, full moon,
So amazed by the beauty that surrounds me.

Suddenly an owl’s cry slices through the silence.
The smells of comfort foods drift through the air.
I am alone with my usual random thoughts,
Wishing the November chill will never end.


Easier to make than keep,

The resolutions that fill us with hope.
Shiny, bright future as the year begins,
Only seeing the good in everything.

Trying to maintain a positive outlook despite nagging doubts.
Mid-year starts to look a little shaky.
Nice rebound.
Hold on for the ride.

Put down that donut and go for a walk.
Stop smoking whatever and give your lungs a break.
Quit dating that same toxic person over and over again.
Be a catalyst for change in your life and then get out of your own way.

Resolutions provide an outline for becoming the best version of ourselves,
But staying hopeful is the hardest part.
Learning to live is the goal,
And living to tell the tale is our final reward.


Sound of a pen dropping.
Probably mine.
Writing into dawn.
Three a.m. and still fighting sleep.

Alone with my thoughts,
Most I don’t care to think about.
The sound of a mind desperately trying to hang onto optimism.
The constant struggle to stay focused and present.

Just one more video on YouTube and I promise I’ll write something meaningful.
Then another and another.
No sleep allowed until I do something constructive tonight.
Startled awake by the sound of my head hitting the computer monitor.

Bird squawking to be covered.
Way past his bedtime.
Semi-darkness and I trip over my guitar case.
Must practice after writing and before sleep is allowed.

Work in three hours.
The sound of the alarm clock is worse than a dentist’s drill.
A nagging reminder that my life isn’t my own.
When will I finally be free?

The stillness of the night centers me.
Too much work to be done.
Sleep is an overrated concept anyway.


I hate waiting.

In lines.
For phone calls.
For Mr. Right
Just in case.

Time is too precious.
Life is too short.
I want the result to be worth it.
Not useless time spent.

Waiting around for things to happen,
But nothing seems to change from year to year.
I’m so tired of being in limbo,
Watching life happen to everyone else.

Will it be worth the wait in the end?
Or just another door leading nowhere?
To wait or not to wait?
A question that haunts my mind.