Love. It doesn’t matter.

In many ways, I checked out of life in 2010.

Although some, including me, think I was pushed out.

Not that it matters.

It doesn't.

And it probably never did.

But now, 12+ years later,

it matters even less. 

If that's possible.

The harder truth is, I don't matter.

What I like.

What I want.

What I think.

What I have to say.

None of it matters.

Not to me, not anymore.

Another truth is that I chose where I am.

People have said I should get over it, move on.

Forgive and forget.

Maybe.

Maybe one day.

But probably not. 

I bought and paid for this hurt.

So I'm not giving it up.

It's mine. I own it.

What did matter is the life I had.

It was ended for me.

Intentionally.

And who cares about that?

Nobody. Everyone has their own life.

Their own problems, betrayals.

I not the first or last to be stabbed in the back.

And so now I face another truth. 

This end I own didn't really start in 2010.

It started when I was born.

I was dealt a bad hand from the start.

Some are. Many are. So what.

It doesn't matter.

I did get several breaks along the way.

I was adopted.

I grew up in a good home.

With good parents, good brothers.

Met my wife.

We planned our life.

Took our vows.

Blessed with 4 beautiful daughters.

Beautiful home.

The future looked bright.

All blessings that many never enjoy.

But then, after 30 years, it all changed.

That wife decided that not even wedding vows mattered.

"for better or worse"

"until death do us part"

Doesn't matter. 

She felt it was easier to just move on.

And that's what she did.

Thirty years didn't matter.

A covenant with God? Doesn't matter.

What God has joined? Doesn't matter.

None of that matters.

The Bible says "Love never fails"

If that's true, then there was never love.

She moved on but I didn't. Still haven't.

I'm stuck there. That's where I died.

Wife stopped caring. God stopped caring.

I stopped caring.

I stopped mattering.

Stopped living.

This wasn't the first time a woman

abandoned me,

betrayed me,

deceived me.

But it would be the last.

So I checked out.

Took myself out of the game. Out of living.

And it doesn't matter. 

I started out broken, and I never healed.

And now, it doesn't matter.

Love is patient?

Love is kind?

Love never fails? 

Maybe. Maybe for some.

But I wouldn't know…

Just His Tears in Her Place

A daughter engaged.

Wedding plans begin.

Her mother is centre

from beginning to end.

The father knows nothing 

Unless he asks.

Nothing is shared.

Nothing is tasked.

The mother is inside.

The father is out.

He doesn't complain. 

He's not what this day is about.

He shares in so little.

He only waits for the day.

The Summer, the wedding 

His cherished part in the play.

Father and daughter walk down the aisle

It's his honour, a daughter's gift of true grace.

Then they'll dance their one dance

And she's gone, just his tears in her place.

Treat Love With Care

When I was young, young love I found.

It reached my soul, it was my ground.

Hard years passed, that love has died.

Now life's a struggle, loneliness my bride.

I look in the mirror, dead eyes look back

Betraying the good life, before my heart cracked.

The smile I wear, it hides my tears

But it's a lie to myself, denying the wasted years.

I've tried to be honest, to not live a lie

But love has passed me by, and I struggle with the why.

If only I'd listened, to the many who tried

But I always knew better, and so now I simply wait to die.

Hiding in the shadows of my former life

it's all gone now, my heart crushed by a wife.

Hoping one day, I will find my peace,

but how can one person, kill all belief?

Regardless of all, I still hope beyond reason

that I will know love, in this my final season.

If God should grant me, this simple prayer

I promise that this time, I'll treat it with care.

We Struggle for the Why

And we all live
And we all die
And we all struggle to get by. 

But still we laugh
And still we cry
And none of us ever find out why...

The Artist’s Tears

I'm a poet with a dried up pen.
A picture taker with a broken lens.
An actor with no lines to say.
An artist from another day.

I've lived a life not my own.
A reincarnated poet from a time unknown.
My body home to many artists souls
Still trying to be born.

I need to draw, I need to write.
Too many thoughts cloud my light.
Mere focus is not mine tonight,
No one artist can find the light.

Those nights to years
And decades passed.
The artist's tears
come home at last.

Why God? Seriously... WTF?

I came into this world with an old, worn out soul
that was paired with a battle scarred heart.
I didn't know who you were back then
but I sensed you had my back, from the start.

I was pushed around.
Bounced around.
Pounded around.
Only you held me. You were my ground.

So many times, throughout my five decades,
I look at events and see your grace at work.
But this last decade, I can't feel you anymore.
What the fuck God? You can be such a jerk.

Why save me, watch over me, all those years
only to abandon me in the end.
Is it that I've served your purpose?
Am I of no use to you anymore?
I feel betrayed. I thought you were my friend.

I Try to Pray

My burdens are so heavy.
There are moments I can't cope.
I try to pray, I try to believe.
I try to reach for promised Hope.

Then I hear of others,
Who's burdens bring me shame.
That I should pray for some relief
from a life others see as gain.

Sentiments

Driving, driving, driving.
The wheels go 'round and 'round.
It's a life I'm barely surviving.
Soon I'll be underground.

I smile nice.
A warm handshake.
To hollow eyes.
Sentiments fake.

Love is?

Almost six decades behind me and I'm still wondering what love really is,
IF it really is.
It seems each time I think I 'get it',
I just end up more confused than ever.

So maybe love doesn't exist?
But even as I write that I know it's wrong.
Though I don't know why I know it's wrong.
Just a knowing, a faith.

I suppose, like a faith in God.
I know he/she/it exists.
But I've no proof I can point to.
It's just a knowing. A feeling. A sixth sense.

That's like love.
Maybe that's why they say God is love.
Anyway, maybe give it another decade and I'll have the answer.
Maybe not. Probably not. Ya, definitely not.