There’s too much to figure out
Too many options
Too many ways to get it wrong
He had to think of his kids
Finding a place to live was easy
Misses having a room with a door
To be able to close it and eat something and watch tv
Echoes all around him
Ghosts of the past in his eyes
He would tell me my secret name
My eyes glowed emerald when I plucked the strings
He liked the guitar playing
That I was better at it than I let on
That it’s too difficult to know how old people are
How big they are
Nothing is as it appears to be
He studied the palm of my hands
Staring into them
He said I was difficult to read
That I didn’t seem like someone who had experienced tragedy
He wouldn’t tell his family he was struggling
Didn’t want to be a burden
He had places he could stay
While he figured it out
Could he have a smoke
The sun glowed softly while we played guitar
And spoke of mysteries and truth
The trees whispered
The breeze sang quietly
When I left he was still a little lost
Standing in the sunlight
Under the blue blue sky
Pondering
Wondering
Wandering
Through the pitfalls
Around the obstacles
Over the barriers
In his mind
Just read the your heartfelt & beautiful poem.
I believe you — always.
But I can never tell my whole story publicly, or even too much of it. Nor even privately. I can’t rehash the stuff. If I was younger & healthier…maybe. But things were different back in the day. For me, a geat day is getting enough sleep!
Yeah, I’m happy — even joyous all the time (no lie). I don’t exactly know why. But I do have so much fear mixed with it…
I unload so much on you in writing. Swear I’m not like this in person & don’t much appreciate talking to men.
I suspect you understand.
Much respect, Love & Light,
Rick
Thank you for your kind words. Appreciate your feedback on the poem!
I like talking to people as a general rule, male or female or non-binary. Certain people I don’t want to talk to ever but it’s not because of gender usually.
I hope your fear eases.
Have a good evening, Rick.