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Nodding Off

Many years have passed.
My hair is gray and thin.
Time goes by too fast.
I won’t be who I’ve been.

Shadows climb the stairs.
Not scary, though somewhat odd.
Alone, never in pairs.
I can’t escape Death’s subtle nod.

Lying to Myself

You’re just a woman
like so many in this world,
I keep repeating,
though the more I speak the words
the less convincing they sound.

Loveless

It doesn’t matter how eloquently I place my points.
Nothing’s going to shift your mind made of granite.
You’ll continue treating me like I’m a foolish boy,
forever set on taking our relationship for granted.

One day you’ll regret turning me down.
You’ll reach for my hand, and I won’t be around.
A loveless marriage and a husband who doesn’t care.
You’re going to see that what you needed was once right there.

I thought you were different,
but you’re just like the rest of the world.
Chasing pride under the guise of education,
and giving in to the whims of your inner pearl.

Twist

I’m still waiting for the twist in the plot,
the one that will right every painful wrong.
This story is tangled in a helpless knot,
but with patience I know it won’t be long.

The time I spent thinking of you,
all those plans I made that will never be,
I should have known I was a fool,
should have known you didn’t think of me.

Candle Burns

It’s not like I haven’t gotten used to lonely nights,
but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish you were here.
My candle beside me burns slowly, a losing fight,
and the more I pray the less God brings me near.

Now That I’m Older

Autumn, my love, my muse,
since childhood I’ve watched you from afar
with no words for your beauty,

but now that I’m older
I can better appreciate who you are
and the setting you paint

for three months every year:
the gray clouds that feel like home,
the mild, affecting rain,

and, best of all, the opportunity
to admire the curve of each leaf,
falling gently to the ground,

similar to the manner I’ve fallen for you,
gradually floating from the maple tree
on which I used to solely rely,

not thinking of what may come next,
not considering I might wither beyond recognition,
only focused on you and your subtle perfection.

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