If you ever want to see
Just how much you mean to me
Take a ride within my mind
I’ll show you how your love feels kind
Discover all I want to be
And see my vast transparency
Take notice of what you walk by
You’ll see how my life’s strange – and why
While strolling through my corridors
You’ll see my pride there on the floor
‘Cause long ago I dropped it there
Assuming someone really cared
When gazing at my sordid past
You’ll find that nothing ever lasts
No friendship, laughter, love or smile
Lasts longer than a little while
You spot a room where trust is stored
Investigate beyond its doors
The little boy that’s cries out loud
Feels broken promises they vowed
But walking past my memories
You’ll find a time when I felt free
Not shackled by my losses great
No bruises from the ones that hate
And then there’s places deep inside
Where thoughts of love – they cannot hide
You’ll wander past them then you’ll see
Just take some time, and take in me
A shining light now guides you close
To where my joy resides the most
You turn the corner with wide eyes
You see yourself to your surprise
You represent the joy I’ve had
Start playing with times I was glad
You’ll skip along just having fun
You’ll laugh and smile before it’s done
It’s time to go now, you’re all done
Sometimes we have to end the fun
But don’t think it’s a sadder time
Just know that someday — YOU’LL BE MINE
I wrote this poem at an extremely lonely period in my life. It touches on disappointment and loss along periods in my life, as well as portraying hope that I had within a certain person that we would become close friends.
I wrote it as a sort of warning to her, that I was damaged goods and it wouldn’t be a walk-in-the-park with me at an emotional level. I have been damaged badly, and for the most part, from circumstances and actions not of my doing. The poem was supposed to be a clever and entertaining (in my mind) way to give her a heads-up about my emotional baggage, but at the same time it was supposed to shed light on the fact that no matter how lonely I am, I still reserve energy to make the best of things. It was supposed to show her that I still have more than enough capacity to love, show respect, and to share on an equal basis. . . .Or so I thought.
The poem wasn’t well taken by her. She immediately saw me as “troubled”, because “40 year-old men aren’t supposed to be that emotional and fragile, they’re supposed to have gotten over all of that by now.” . . . . . . I was devastated. The relationship fizzled-out not too long after that. No matter how up-beat and positive I was for her, she always had it in the back of her head that I was damaged. Irreparably. She felt that I would need someone who must coddle me and constantly validate my self-esteem. No matter how much I stayed away from the subject to move on and just enjoy life as it came, never concentrating on the past, she just had changed.
Apparently she had been with someone who was emotionally damaged before, and went through hell with him. She an independent woman, who was financially more than just comfortable, and wanted a care-free life. And I don’t blame her, I would want the same if I had the chance, especially if I had gone through tough times with an “un-stable” man (woman in my case), as she had. So I let her go.
But this piece means a great deal to me, for it exposes the hope I have within me. It is true that I am depressed, it is true that I am lonely, it is true that I have no one in my life – not even family. But I have hope, and I am always willing to be open and honest and sharing to another. Human Being, especially a romantic interest. I believe in communication for the reasons of properly dealing with past issues, to put them to bed so to speak, resolve them and move on, so there’s so surprises – no secrets between two lovers – so they have nothing weighing them down. Communication is the absolute key to a relationship, and that’s what the spirit of this poem is about – unfettered, unrestricted communication, and just how much this certain person lit my life up t the time.
I hope someone, at least one person – gets something out of this. I’m not sure if it will be put up in the list of poems, but I hope it does.