it's so easy to write these words
all I need is a picture
and the words flow like wine
your tender smile
your meekness
your battles won
along with your crosses to bare
I'm like a pigeon
gobbling up bread in the parking lot
it's that easy
just one look
into those soft desperate eyes
and it all becomes obvious
there's so much poetry there
that the words write themselves
all you've ever needed was an observer
someone who could see the constellation
the connection between your spirit
and the history of the stars
from the very tip
to the meatiest rib
from the morning sun
to your darkest day
no one else could have been strong enough
no one was
and no one ever will be again
there's no chance for any of these things to change
to go back in time
to re-write the passages of yesteryear's crimes
so we look on to today
we stare it right in the face
and we ask for it to be peaceful
for it to be calm
for just a moment
just long enough for us to catch our breaths
and so these poems.
they're not for you.
they're not for me.
they just are
because they deserve to be.
these words.
your life.
as nothing has ever been planned
nor were these words