(Et memores..) a piece of Grey

S/he’s gone..

a realization that spurs each raggedy word in each poem.

that makes my path a little longer,

(harder)

knowing that thought is your wake-up call to get stronger.

No time to recover, from the impact of change

(any pain can be dealt with as you get wiser with age)

Strange to say the least, the brain accepts the craze as

a moment of insanity that will soon go away..

So each day,

day after day.

Years to the day

(Still penning empty poetry of what my mouth wouldn’t say.)

Because brain has accepted a truth that my heart can’t explain.

so when i reach for those memories, i struggle to retain a bit of my sanity for the impact of pain…

focus the emotions into notions

now scribe on a page. watch empty characters take the stage in denial of change.

what my heart can’t explain,

ink will seep in exchange.

and layers of history will unravel

to give that emptiness a name…

and

that’s

how

it

rains.

day after day. No clarity, no pace.

wasted ink ever blooming, but the flow has no grace.

overtaken by instinct that protects my heart from my brain.

Sustained by lacing empty spaces

with an endless poetic array.

for each day that grows harder,

A better poem is displayed.

and that Kodak moment of pain

is sealed in a better frame.

portrayed in coded analogies that my spirit can take.

getting older with years,

makes me wiser with age.

so i hide the hurt in my soul and wear poems as the membrane.

No one should know how close you are to the End lane

when the heart hears the truth and the spirit goes insane?

A soldier cannot allow it!

so i’m driven to maintain

a bit of my sanity trying to find my way.

a way through this forever slice of grey..

forever fighting the Fact that

‘you’re gone..’

But you’ll never go away..