A "nice" guy, his life, troubles and struggles, triumphs and moments of total bliss. Poetry to capture it all.
The silent droplet,
Through the air,
Pushing,
Falling,
Shaking all the way home.
To a collective,
A sense of sharing,
A place in amidst.
The group,
Close, together, huddled.
Silent the fall.
Soft the impact.
In a moment, no trace.
This happy, caring feeling.
A warmth when the world around is cold.
The dark winter night surrounding.
But I feel warm and light.
Caring, in every way I can.
Feeling, it to my core.
Happy, to help with the smallest of things.
A feeling, another, I cannot describe.
I can’t fathom,
But only feel.
Feeling in the moment,
A fleeting, passing moment.
A moment, where all there is,
Is care.
Is love.
Wanting the best for another,
Hoping and doing all I can.
Supporting, in the only way I am able.
Willing, their best to shine through the darkness.
Out into the dark, for them to make their light.
A happy, caring feeling.
One I grasp,
One I hold.
Never wanting to let go.
The moment may pass.
But the feeling cannot.
I grasp hold,
To care for another.
To wish their successes.
I grasp hold. Wanting to care for them more.
But for now.
I hold.
Onto this happy, caring feeling.
That rush,
The rush of your mind,
Mind racing with thoughts,
Feeling fast and intense
Nonending and strange… but nice.
Waiting to see,
Waiting and loving life,
Living and finding fulfilment in work,
Everything working out,
Sharing your mind and hearing another.
Another day in the life of this rush.
This ever-rushing flow of ideas,
A million thoughts an hour, propelling me before I even realise.
It’s funny…
These crazy rushed thoughts,
Making me feel ecstatic and unusual,
Funny, giddy and spinning.
This rush…
What a feeling!
Falling behind,
Letting go,
Kicked till hurt,
Pained breathing,
Eyes hurting,
Deep breaths,
Piercing pain,
Panic,
The frantic thoughts,
All gone, falling behind.
Left in the ditch.
Among the cold frost.
Sapping and empty, falling behind,
Left behind.
Shoved from comfort,
Left to drop,
Falling fast,
Falling in no-one-knows-what time.
Waiting to hit the ground,
The inevitable stop.
The hard embrace,
The cold dead stop.
This is my life,
This is what’s left.
To stop the fall.
To hit the deck.
To fall flat on my face,
Break my neck.
In the meantime,
Waiting to hit,
Drifting in freefall.
Nothing at all left.
Alone,
Unloved by all,
Thrown from a plane
And watched… in freefall.
Tipping point closing,
Grip slipping,
Control weakenjng.
The ever-long struggle to maintain.
Myself. My mind.
The tired feeling of being.
Losing. Slipping. Falling.
That balance of your,
The balance of me, the balance of mine.
Empty nothingness.
Slipping to The Fall.
Losing. Waiting. Hurting. Pained.
