Never Found

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

Meaningless intimacy.

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