It almost killed him, it did,
overflow way past the hard knot
in his throat, found himself hard to cope

with, his well concealed anger
blazing underneath
his thin fictitious coat

Repeatedly he held the flame
until his past, present and future singed
beyond recollection or recognition

deceased; smoky black charred
bones lay limped from
an unplanned emotional proposition



Leaving her in cries of dispair,
while off to another affair
as a missing half to another’s bliss

he took off on a shooting star
to be reclaimed by someone
else’s prayerful wish

without a second look or trail
of clues; her hurt completely ached
her alone down to barely exist

making remarkable history in her world
by loving and crashing it
so seriously like this

she’s so scornful now
with her damaged heart,
recreating reborn regrets

the last she saw of him was
his frosted back and dark hands
holding love strings from her chest

The Lost Boys

They stroll and post up on
concrete slabs while dark clouds
follow in synchronized order

on a mission to nowhere, held up
by failed dreams, these are
the lost boys of lost young daughters

unprepared to deal, buck naked
to the cold ways of a cold world,
caught up in the corners of their eyes

where they stiffen and rot
next to prisoners of past hurts, old cries
and older brothers who’ve already died