Tag: compassion

Our Graffiti Walls

by Chevvy, posted in Poetry

Sometimes the pain is unyielding,

deeply plunged with serrated edges.

Only you can see the ghoulish images

stuck on repeat, record, rewind, replay…

Brother take my hand because I understand

how the weather won’t efface, nor time erase,

the graffiti on the wall of your remembrance,

bleeding paint, rolling from those crying eyes.

Why does midnight seem so dark and cold

when you’re feeling strapped  and alone?

While Insomnia  wrestles your  demons away,

daylight can’t seem to come soon enough.

But it eventually does Brother, it does!

See… the bleeding has stopped for a while.

When you looked out of your window

and saw that other artists had been at work…

Painting their own graffiti walls, you knew

that there were others outside just like you,

chasing ghosts at midnight, in frenzied spritz,

their pain transformed into nobel–prized art.

We’ll rise from the ashes again Brother!

Take my hand, you may lend me yours too.

Don’t give up

by Chevvy, posted in Poetry

I cannot take your pain

Since I would be a thief

To take what isn’t mine

You do not need my crime

I cannot hear your groans

In midnight’s silent breaths

That grow loud in your head

As Sleep stands you up again

I cannot taste the last drops

Of the bottle, your sole mate

Though I wish I could know

What your thirst feels like

I cannot stop your crying

Or know the river’s source

But as you climb the mountain

And it starts to get steeper…

Know  that it will descend

When you get to the other side

You are not alone

by Chevvy, posted in Poetry

I whine and dine my aching parts

But none as painful as yours

I lament my young reminiscences

But you have raced ahead of me

I bemoan for a rose-colored love

But find yours broken in shards

I awake longing for more hours of sleep

But pain denies your rest all night long

I quibble and worry about life’s mistakes

But discover you’ve had more than your share

I chase eternal rainbows of happiness

But realize that you have never been there

So I thank my twinkling stars and rising sun

For filling my life with ordinary moments

These ordinary moments are your lighthouse

When you find yourself lost and tossed at sea

I cannot promise to fix your broken fragments

But let me share my light in your darkest night

And when you see stars falling before you

Know that someone far away has heard

It may not solve all your trials and tribulations

But it may bring comfort that you are not alone