Some kind of trouble

To say you are human is to say you have faults. That sometimes you make mistakes or lose your way long the long that life is. I have my trouble with God and how I am suppose to follow him. I have had my share of heartache and not always have I been the good guy. But after 37 years I have no regrets. You can’t live looking back at what you should have done but that is a lesson I am slowly learning. 

Every other memory is about those things I did not do. Those words that could have been said and make trouble times a little less hard. But you can’t count on me to be there when you need me to do the right thing, that’s what some would say. On a good day I’ll be that man who does the right things, and on a bad day, they write songs about people like me. 

I wait for the sun to shine again, to have that hope that I once had for the future. It seems like it’s been dark since before I can remember. The train that I waited for never came and the tracks are overgrown with moss now. I see the steam just behind that bend, always waiting and never here. So I am that boat that Fitzgerald once wrote about. The current is moving forward and all I can do is fight it with all that I have. 

People speak of love like it’s a thing that we can own, an item to put on a self, locked and kept to ourselves. But you can’t make someone love you, you can hold them down for so long before that soul slips thru your fingers. And what might have been is all we hang on to. It was almost like a song, the song played since before you or I were born. It’s a song of tears. You say over and over that you won’t ever fall in love again but we do, those old feelings always come back. 

If you could read my mind…would you feel the way I do? Would you cry my tears? Would you look back at me and say somewhere down the road maybe things will change. Would you ask me the question that all ove asks after it’s over.. how am I suppose to live without you? 

Or would I give it another try?

But I just want the world to know that if they are alone, right or wrong I did try to care. All I ever needed was you. But there I go…going away to a place I’ve never been to. Wait for me and someday I’ll be myself. That man..that boy..that stranger that you know all to well. 

And then I’m there , just me and over my shoulder my God.  It feels like being home. He gives me the grand tour of the pain that I have given to others. Over there he says, sits the man I could have been. And over there is the woman who waited for that man to come home. 

Sometimes I’m an angel and sometimes I’m bitter cruel. A mystery to everyone I know. I say nothing with every word. 

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