Outside the sun is shining and there is not a cloud in the sky, but there is a hurricane brewing in my soul. I've boarded up the windows on the shack I call my heart but it's only a half-hearted attempt because the walls are so weary. I doubt they can weather another storm. What do I need with a heart anyways? Many have lived their lives without love and have survived. And what is love? Isn't it just a guise to increase consumer spending on birthdays and holidays and that god awful February 14? I look at the boards and scattered sandbags. If the storm breaks the shack, I won't fix it again. I will leave my fate to destiny. I will come to terms...with my homeless heart.

Taking up oxygen and making dioxide

I wonder what I've done to make this world any better

Have I added any more love to the world

Or have I caused grief and strife and negative energy

Wherever I go, leaving a carbon print of discontent

People who prayed for both their enemies and friends

That hoped to see the best in their fellow man 

But I'm here.

Wondering.

Who have I loved, who's life have I touched.

Because, you know, sometimes I love people.

And when I do I love so hard that no matter what

they do it does not affect my will to love them,

They may not deserve it but I leave myself open

Exposed, to beauty and pain--

And yet I cannot stop loving them, 

or maybe I just don't want to.

And then there are those that love me

That I could never appreciate

So it's a constant circle, a constant game

But what have I won in life?

What have I said, what have I done

that someone else hasn't already said or done?

Why am I here?

Wondering?