The Absence of Wavelength

Broken People

In your house, I long to be
Room by room, patiently
I'll wait for you there, like a stone
I'll wait for you there, alone


Broken People (I Haven't Met)

I don’t know your fallen angels.
I don’t know those who mourn.
I wish that I could commiserate
without feeling forlorn.

Broken people have wings.
Broken people can fly.
But, we drown in our sorrow.
We are afraid to even try.

We’re focused too much on pity.
We focus too much on the dead.
Why can’t people lend sympathy,
leaving emotional homeless unfed?

I envision your shadows.
I have lingered in your shade.
I don’t know why I am here and
why I am buried with your spade.

It’s through charity we find folks
who struggle just like us,
who are the same kind,
who need redemption and trust.

We can be here for the living
before they suffocate underground.
People can love people
with differences all around.

Lay down your weapons,
with their stained bayonets.
Extend a tender hand because
I haven’t met you yet.


10.24.23
28 lines
We are all stones, either above or below. Some shine brilliantly for show, while the rest also know of our worth. But it’s really not about that. Is it? Do we want to be on the surface? How much pressure can a diamond take? I’ll be in my bedrock until the earthquake.

4.23.24 formatting and one adjective added