Please Excuse the Mopping

sometimes I feel
my shadow
is the only one besides me.
And then,
there are times
when I feel
so bad for my shadow,
I wish I didn't have to be.
If one day I looked down
and found it devoid
of that sulking
puddle of shade,
I'd understand.
and wish i could disappear too...

-inspired by a lonely soul I once encountered at a vacant bus stop.
so to the lonely old man with the long since faded shadow.
Perhaps the shade wasn't gone,
but the light.

ironic, isn't it?

The root of pain
in every story,
in every tale
ending in joy or disaster
is the mischievously guised
beauty
we so blandly call
love.