With you a current runs through my face

Making me tingle with nervousness

Struggling to remain poised with grace.

With you my eyes fail to wander elsewhere

Trapped in your gaze like we're alone

And there's nobody else there.

With you my palms have never been dry

And my stomach transforms

Into a dancefloor for butterflies.

Standing tall in a forest of cement

Is a house of considerable worth.

At a first glance it can be thought to be old,

Yet it was constructed not long ago.

Onlookers may interact with the house,

But, inexplicably, remain careful

To stay near the garden where flowers bloom.

The doors to the house have never been locked,

But silence suffocates its barren halls.

The strong, tall soldier leaves for war again.

With a thin mask meant to shield him from hurt.

Unafraid about if he'll make it home.

Terrified of the passenger that lurks.

A sense of duty drives him to battle.

At the wars end he will have done enough.

He will have helped kill the invading king.

And family left will be filled with his love.

Be still, the bubbles within your chest shall calm.

The flame engulfing your neck won't leave scars.

Although your heart screams that flame will worsen,

pay heed its weight, its intuition marred.

Be still, the worst is already long past.

Your heart will shake free from hindering stones.

The fire will give way to confidence,

or at least extinguished by cool repose.

In these months where decades have long since passed

The plague whose symptom is desolation

Forces upon us a challenging task:

Find intimacy in separation

"This is your cousin Joel.

Go on, play nice"

I stared at the boy in front of me

He had dark brown eyes.

He stared right back

then stuck out his hand

"I'm Joel" he said

Then off we ran

The next time I saw him, we were both taller

"Wow you're still small", I joked.

"I got that from my father"

We laughed an reminisced about the days gone by

There was only joy in his light brown eyes.

The next time we met,

maybe a year after the last

I asked him how he's been,

"My sickness passed!"

You see, for the third time that year

he had been hospitalized

But he still had joy

in his milky white eyes.

If Joel were here today

He'd see me hurting bad.

He'd look at me and ask

"Why are you sad?"

Underneath all true beauty lay a war-torn tapestry hidden from view.

Its rips and tears nearly as numerous as the threads that hold it together.

Unseen, it's damage radiates a beauty that far outshines anything new,

As the untouched do not have the smooth ripples from pain weathered.

Underneath a Willow tree

a squirrel searches for it's acorn

Somewhere here it must be

It's stomach cries, forlorn

The squirrel moves on to the next spot

Where it thinks it hid some food

Unfortunately it missed it's shot

Another squirrel ate it, rude.

Underneath a Willow tree

Our squirrel lay down in the shade

The exhaustion had increased

The hunger pains won't fade

The squirrel tried it's best to survive

It had travelled great lengths

Ultimately it could not thrive

To continue living requires strength

We interact on a daily basis

Our rapport strong

I smile at their friendly faces

We usually get along

Although they trust in my humanity

And have complete faith that I care

They don't understand, put candidly,

That I am simply not there

Who do we look up to?

What's right or wrong is up to

Those we give our hearts to.

Not in a romantic way, mind you

But a pragmatic way where our virtue

Is aligned, in line, and most true