I have everything, I have nothing.
I live in death and yet breathe life.
I cry tears of sand into the ocean
Of regret of my times of passion that dissipate to
I am loved, I am neglected.
I give everything yet I have nothing to give.
I sing a song marred with silent pain
That only serves to help me feel here to fulfil
The joy of another.
I am a dance, I am paralysis.
I water gardens of stones in the hope of miracles.
I feed panthers pumpkin pies in the hope that
They will adapt and
Not crave the meat off my bones.
I am happy, I am happy.
I have all my limbs and can dance among the lilies.
I sing with the birds and laugh with the hyenas
Because truly deep within my soul I know hurt and the cruelty
And relentless unforgivingness of the human heart.
So I meet faces. I meet skin. I meet bones. But never a soul.
It will take a miracle to live again.
Some hearts are never found. Never found.
But they sure well may be replaced.
Frank Malaba © 2012