Living day to day, depending on his luck for sustenance
Orbiting his need for money and his need to be creative
The two pulling in opposite directions, their tidal forces ripping him apart
Today was a day where art and hunger went hand in hand as he painted
Every ounce of his imagination was placed on the canvas stroke by stroke
Revealing a mixture of magic and his soul, bound in sweat and paint
Yet it didn’t sell, leaving him destitute and feeling like he lost at life
Looking for a way out of this intellectual maze
Oblivious to all the obstacles I have never thought of before this very moment
Stumbling along the bones of those ideas that died trying previous attempts to flee
The search continued, but upon reflection, I was always hopelessly …
Clutter rampaged across his mental landscape
Leaving a mess of chaos that scrambled his thoughts
Old ideas mixed with current observations and new connections
Giving him no chance to respond to her questions
Grimacing all he could do was shrug his shoulders
Everything he wanted to say tried to come out at the same time, allowing nothing to escape his lips
Distraught, he knew that job opportunity was lost
Focusing on what memories she had left
Organizing them in some sort of mental filing cabinet
Realizing later that she had lost the keys to those drawers
Giving her so much less to attach her to this existence
Everything that was her softly faded out, lost to everyone
The fact that she was still alive was little consolation
Focusing on what he had lost stole all his spare time and consumed his happiness.
It left him starved for the nourishment that was “The Before”.
Now that she had come into his life, all that was scrambled.
Didn’t get back any spare time, but he was stuffed with happiness
Realizing there are times when you are broken inside
Everything just rattles around and you feel the stabbing of the sharp pieces
Putting that back together would be difficult if not impossible
Leaving what would be left is an incomplete you
As some of the parts would be lost or the edges rounded to leave gaps
Covered with tape and superglue. Looking in the mirror you don’t recognize your own soul
Embrace a new chance, a new hope, a new you and let the rubble be recycled
The enormity of the situation was not lost on Joy.
It made everyone around her pause and take notice of how bad it was getting
Nothing in her life had prepared her for what was to come
Yet the feel of her baby daughter’s hand wrapped around her finger gave her hope.
Just play a game of cards they said. It will all be fun.
And there I was with a royal flush and a chance to make a couple of quid.
Can’t really lose, so I went all in. When we showed our hands, one guy just lost it
Know what came next? That bloke chased me to the bathroom with an axe screaming “Here’s Johnny!”
Revealing each tear slowly
As the thought of you not being here sets in
It soon becomes a torrent, soaking the earth in front of me
Not that I noticed. I was lost in the emotional downpour
Remembering all that has been lost
As well as all that we have gained
It is times like these that balance looking forward and back
Seeing this particular snapshot in each of our lives
Entices us to lift our glasses in a toast. Here’s to you, my reader.