When was the Last Time?
  
When was the last time
you were happy, Guile?
When was the last time
you smiled without
faking it?
When was the last time
you saw the sun rise
and set?
When was the last time
you fed birds in the park?
When was the last time
you didn't wear a black shirt?
When was the last time
you said 'I love you, Mom.'?
When was the last time
you read Calvin and Hobbes?
When was the last time
you did something outrageous?
When was the last time
we had fun together?
When was the last time
I heard you sing?
When was the last time
I saw life in those eyes?

When was the last time
we were happy, Guile?

stars

Alone, I sit here still
while the stars above--they shine
biding their time exquisitely
as I dream of things, once mine.

Do the stars know of pain and yearning?
of dreams left for dead?
Do they know of never-ending silences?

Oblivious, yet constantly vicinal--
they glide endlessly in the evening darkness,
tainting the sky with patches of hope,
and momentary spells of gladness.

But, for me, forever they remain
distant--aloof, invariably far.
The best things in life aren't always free,
The worst things are.

thora

Annie Lennox sings
from a stereo nearby,
and you just sit there, brooding--
staring at the horizon.

Then the evening comes with its
soothing cloak,
but your face--pale,
curiously fair,
devoid of any emotion--
stay motionless, save for
the occasional blink.

And your eyes speak of weariness
and unpleasant reverie.

'There's nothing worse in life than being
ordinary,' you've been told
and you almost believed it.
People think you're weird
and you almost believed them,
too.

But you're not..
You're strong,
empathic,
sublimingly humane.
You understand people better
than they will ever
understand you.

And though achingly rare,
your beauty is never caused.
It just is--intrinsic,
Never borrowed

Orphan

A rugged boy of fifteen--
crouching quietly on the spiral steps
of a dilapidated orphanage--
dreams of a mother existing
but yet to be seen.
And his eyes are cold--
bitter, exhausted by tears--
unwelcoming windows to a soul
unloved for too many years.
And before the clinging leaves,
the last of the autumn season,
should join the earth,
a not-so-feeble promise is made:
'With the stars as my witness,
I will search for you, Mother.
And I will find you, I promise,
before this winter is over.'
And the lonely boy?armed
with nothing but his sorrow--
trudged through the viscid snow
and found no sleep in the shadows.
But he trudges on,
unmindful of the cold,
fueled only by his ardent vow
and by his dwindling hope.
Until one stormy evening,
he came stumbling upon a church,
drained of all his spirit by hunger
and by his fruitless search.
Exhausted, he fell
asleep on the altar's foot,
he breathed the last of his breath
and dreamed his last dream.
And in that dream,
at last he met
his long-lost unforgotten mother.
And in doing so,
in that brief instant
spent eternity together.

I Will

And I will do things you've never heard of.
I will make you laugh again.
I will make you believe that there are still
good things left in your life.
I will make you believe in your dreams again.
I will let you hold those dreams in your hands as
a child might hold his dreams in his sleep.
I will restore your faith in yourself.
And in other people.
And I will not make any promises because I know
you would hate to hear them.
I will show you the beauty in everything.
I will share that beauty with you and you will
be free.
And you will then see the beauty
Within yourself.