Soft Spot

I have one soft spot
One so vulnerable
It is hidden away
Keeping it invisible

It holds my very spark
My one and only key
But only one knows
Knows the creation in me

She tends the glow
And holds the light
Tending so gently
And keeping it bright

In the deepest dreams
She is the only one
Reflected by the moon
Until morning comes

Stoic Poetry

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Monday’s

Some days are Monday’s
No matter the given day
Hard to start, hard to finish
When nothing goes your way

Others you can glide through
Everything goes just right
Everyday cannot be perfect
Trying as hard as you might

Stoic Poetry

Gray Days

These days have grayed
The iris’s of his eyes
Standing in the rain
While daylight dies

He will wait until he knows
The love that never lies
A heart that cannot rest
Without requited sighs

Sun and moon arcs
Are of no consequence
In days of shadows
Without rhyme or sense

Stoic Poetry

Runes

Caressing the runes
Of a life fully lived
So much given
So little left to give

Times have come
And times have gone
All that is left to me
A tune of a familiar song

Walking to the waiting gate
The list is very long
As I hobble along
Still I sing my song

So many days of battle
Yet I never fell
So open those gates
Or leave me to my hell

Stoic Poetry

This Broken Pen

A broken man with a pen
Is a dangerous adversary
Nothing to lose
And nothing to gain

Nothing to win
And nothing to prove
Writing to survive
To rise above the pain

Words that soothe
That light the spark
Line by line
Verse and refrain

Stoic Poetry

Parallel Worlds

Parallel Worlds

In one you are brilliant
But only a shadow here
In one you are perfect
Yet not even close here

One is your humanity
With nothing to fear
Here you have questions
Born of endless fear

One day you’ll return
To all you hold dear
But for now you stay
And do the best my dear

Stoic Poetry

A Better Way

There has to be a better way
Than going back and forth
Doing right, doing wrong
Because of how we were taught
Taught by them, who we are

No matter the bumps and bruises
No matter the scars or the pain
Can we simply believe in truth?
Born flawless we can never forget
What you say we are cannot be us

Stoic Poetry

Unsteady

I am just a little unsteady
Often listing to one side
Feeling it in my thinking
But mostly in my stride

Old injuries returning
Like bad habits often do
To be overcome once again
Something to go through

One day it will surely heal
To be once again forgotten
The world will seem brighter
And I will again feel nothing

Stoic Poetry

The Reason

We were born to be broken
Waiting to be put back together
When pieces fit better than before
Reborn to try one more time

Sometimes pieces may be missing
Searching is part of the scheme
Surprised by what is revealed
Finding out what all this means

Stoic Poetry