Tuesday, June 7, 2011



He cried once.
That was a long time ago.
Aimlessly clambering,
In a world he cannot know.
We can grasp at the pieces,
Try to make the puzzle have meaning.
But that won’t help a heart,
Or eyes that are stinging.
Your eyes may cry,
Until they’re red.
As you wish upon an evening star,
For better days ahead.

There is no map.
There is no guide.
But if you pay attention,
There are plenty of places to hide.

Danny Gunter

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