Comfortable Pain (a poem)

And what is it you’re trying to tell me?
Nestled in your comfortable pain
Alone in a weird, new land
Everything off-kilter, somewhat
sideways and misty in the rain
Blow a kiss for the dearly departed
Travel along the American blood veins
Inject the happiness into your eyeballs
And take me away from what I know
I trust you – your smile is rottenly beautiful
You’ve never led me astray

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What if the Buddhist are Right? (a poem)

Pain will set you free
But have they felt my pain?
And I have never felt yours

Watching your pain
That is the pain that hurts the most
The pain I have no power over

What if the Buddhists are right?
What if we have to feel pain
To truly know happiness?

Sometimes your happiness
Seems so very far away
Behind mountains I cannot move

I can hide my emotions
I can trick myself
I can pretend

But your pain
I am powerless
I am weak

But if the Buddhists are right
Then I have hope that one day
You’ll be the happiest man I’ve ever met

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World Crumbling (a poem)

World crumbling
Tears running down my face
When does the pain end?
How do we get to stable ground?

Six months of nonstop
Six months of ups and downs
Never did I think that death would come

Now we’re left here
Dealing with the mess he made
Financial ruin, our lives in ruin?

He is gone and you might be too
How do I handle losing both my pillars?
Do I go on faith and drown?
Do I let you go and sink even faster?

Each path is dark
And each path has different poisons
This is my pit of despair

Machine (a poem)

Sometimes I think you see me as a machine
I can handle everything
Nothing bothers me

Other times I think you don’t even notice me
Sadness and pain
I do feel those things

Sometimes I become a machine
It’s how I was raised to be
To never stop, to always keep going

But even while my blood turns to oil
And I keep going and pushing
Behind everything is sadness and pain