[ > A bit about this one. It's a selection from a poetry book I wrote that will be publishing at the end of the summer, in August. In this one I edited the meaning to be how I originally intended it to be, for my publisher had me take change things like "he's seen love" to "SHE'S seen love" so that it wouldn't have a straightforward gay theme. You guys are the only people to see the original versions of my work... Enjoy. < ]
Sad summers, few as I remember,
never taught me anything.
Despite my oh-so steady direction
I’ve never seen such modesty.
Oh, he’s seen love and he’s seen war
but fine lines he can’t see.
And just as always he grasps hearts about him
doesn’t mean that he loves me.
It’s a fight above in a holy pass
that we’re all dying for.
In this path the road is set
for free will leads to more.
To a damned fighter in hell
everything will rise and fall.
With the cold, cold hands in ruby
as a walk blends into a crawl.
This is a pain that I’ll ignore
for some have faired much worse.
Still, this life binds me, holds me tight,
and makes love’s draw a curse.
It’s a raw joy to a darkened truth
where the sky is scarred and bled.
Beg to a god who doesn’t care,
with children left unfed.
In this despair he sees no pain
and lives on with no crutch.
His words are grown while all is dry,
and gives life with his touch.