As the sun sinks low......

Shadow Wrestling

by stu pidasso

9February2010

Weaving back and forth,

running wild with delight,

my eyes are flighty as dove

on a crisp winter night.

Swirling in a cerebral tornado,

my thoughts tumble

over and over each other,

like playful puppies wrestling.

The blender whirs noisily.

Hurt. Sad. Angry. Confused.

Aghast. Perplexed. Slightly amused.

My emotions lay entwined

like a pile of pick up sticks.

Even when I strive my hardest

to not offend, but to mend,

it seems that my actions always wound.

Carefully, my words, I choose;

trying to prevent a bruise

to any ego I might touch.

Try, try again, even when I win...I lose.

But then, I speak in such a rash,

and any hope of connection I dash,

and having failed at communicating;

only myself, I am left to bash.

It is futile, most days I think

to try to find some common link

with anyone out there who may feel

as I do from day to day.

What a way.....what a way.

I know that I am a good man.

I feel it in my heart and soul.

I love my children. I love my mother.

I love my sister and all my brothers.

I even love the other daughter,

and the one who my heart slaughters,

leaving but a lump of coal.

I miss my wife and my father.

I love myself and my life

and pray to God for a new wife.

But it seems that no matter

where I walk, run or crawl;

whether I do or I don't,

whether I will or I won't,

that solitude

shall be my only companion.

Heavy is the head who wears this crown

and I feel it dragging me down....

down....

down....

to the bottom of my pit.

I read all your words,

a hear the little birds,

even the wind whispers

sweet nothings to me

in the darkness of my struggle.

Try. Try. Try.

Someday....

these wings will fly.

Patience, for you will win.....again.