Life – The Stories In Between

Empty, Within

The glory of the passing Shared among the weak Claimed by the strong Hold it up with pride Bear witness to this Ignore as my

I can’t remember How many days it’s been Lost in these hours Through deep exhale The crisp autumn air Burns cold With each inhale There’s

I have seen an old woman Sitting in a rocking chair The warmth of the desert sun Shining on her through the front window Surrounded

I can hold you In my arms And tell you All the lies You’ve been longing To hear And mean Every word I say Because

If you could see What I see In those moments when You’re most vulnerable You might recognize Through the haze Of your sadness There is

I may smile at you But it stops there I don’t have much To give you Some words Nothing much at all There are spaces

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