MORE POETRY BY PHIL WYATT
STAR

So real is the sadness that fills my heart with pain,
I'm sure there's something that I've missed.
My memory recalls feelings so strange,
as I held on to you like a precious gift.
Held on tight hoping time would stop for me,
but fate pushed you away.
And I lost my chance to really see,
the price I must now pay.

I lost a part of my humanity,
not caring for the pain I caused.
Now the guilt affects my sanity,
for no heed I paid your laws.
I took a good long look at my image,
upon feeling my weakness so strong.
Your position of trust and respect diminished,
just to have a companion I longed.
FIVE DAYS

I remember when you held my hand,
the touch of our skin, like sugar and sand.
The warmth from your body, the cold of the night,
the pain in my heart, could only feel right.

There were times in those days I would just stand alone,
watching the sea throw itself at the shore.
I Wondered if I should just dive right in,
and swim until I couldn't swim any more.

You were a dream from out of the sandstorm,
rising up to blind me from all I could see.
The sting in my eyes, it still makes me cry,
And the hope in my heart still keeps you with me.

And when we were together, the power between us,
so true and so full, could not be replaced. 
though I tried to move on, It was never to be.
Because not even time could forget your face.

A memory so true, it can never be shared,
some things can't be told, like the smell of her hair. 
Or the feelings we burned, as the days slipped away,
and the need that I felt, as I longed just to stay.

So find your own island, and make your own dreams,
the feelings you have, only you'll really see.
And I hope that your days last longer then mine,
And that they are enough to fill a lifetime.

And we had five days, that's all we had.
Five days stranded together, five days alone.
And once five days were over, we'd forget what we did.
Five days in the past, time to go home.
LUCK

It feels so hard sometimes,
like our luck has all run out.
The last penny through the meter,
the last window taken out.

A final message left in braille,
for an undiscovered hand.
A sad look to the tide,
from a castle made of sand.

An open door to darkness,
unsure of what we'll find.
A journey for a distance,
that leaves no room for time.

A dead end in the entrance,
sets us stranded on a stage.
To an audience of silence,
A rejection on blank page. 

And we watch our life go by,
with our memories and health.
Forget the sweetest moments,
Or leave them high upon a shelf.

And we try and try to reach them,
but are blocked by feelings bad.
And reaching for our happiness,
Only seems to make us sad.

And the days pass on behind us,
Like a maze without a guide.
And our luck is truly spent,
when no hope is left inside.
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