PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Always there before anyone else.

Early for work,

For a party,

For you.



Always there period.

Committed to those he cares about.

Comes out of the shadows of his life,

And in the bright light of yours.



He comes to help,

He comes to care.

He offers advice,

And he often holds you as you cry.



Gently swaying in his arms,

Till you throw him away.

A used tissue,

Your better now,

And what did you need him for.



I get up and return to my shadows,

And wait.

For as early as I am about everything else.

I’m late for helping myself.



Too late?

Perhaps.

But not on time.

I’ve goon astray for far too long.

To busy solving their problems.

Yet they can't help yours.



Only so few know,

Yet many more might guess.

No one knows for sure.



Years ago,

I would have never guessed this would be my fate.

To be a weak man,

Falling apart before getting started.

Struggling to hold it together.

And do all that’s required.

Struggling to survive,

Without putting the gun to your head.



A dark home,

A dark barrel.

So inviting,

Yet so cowardly.



As of late,

I'm beginning to think:

Chickening out may not be all that bad...



To late to help myself?

No.

Not yet!

Yet the effort to put it right,

Is by far greater,

Then the effort to pull the trigger.



Let me be.

Alone as I once was.

Leave me alone,

I won’t fix your problems anymore.

At least,

Not until I fix mine.



Leave it be,

Let it rest.

I'm late.

For my date.



And it’s no date,

At least not one with a man.

Its one with myself,

To figure out what the hells wrong with me,

And how to put what’s left back together.



So for now I’m back in the shadows.

I won’t answer your calls.

Take it personally,

Your bullshit isn't important to me anymore!

I ain't your slave for hire,

Just to be played by being thrown to the wayside.

I'm better then your shit.

And I'm not dealing with it anymore.



Fuck you and your friends,

I don't want this fucking shit anymore.

Don't be surprised if I don’t return your calls.

Or if I don't go out with you anymore.

Maybe if you treated me as a friend,

Not a worthless pile of shit.



It’s too late for you,

But not for me.

I'll figure it out somehow.

And nothing should stop that now...