We can beat ourselves up in the void, In all the shame we try to avoid. Waltzing through interconnecting rooms of shame This is where we learned to wear our blame.
We tell ourselves that we're different, Acting humble and somewhat reverent. We'd give our lives to learn to be strong, If only we could find where we belong.
Wound by wound, we become more alone, Learning that we have no exterior skin of stone. We wonder what it is for which we must atone, Until a stranger's voice becomes a friend over our phones.
These are the moments that we feel, Moment by moment, we learn to be real. We find it is the love of such a friend That brings us to "okay" and the pain ends.
It's somewhere there in the extended hand, That smile of love that understands. With it we learn to reach and extend far And with hopeful eyes to look up into the stars.
(c) August 29, 2025 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
Heading out of Australia to escape this Aussie winter. First stop Japan, then UK/Ireland and if work doesn't call me back, onto Chicago. I will make it up as I go along
cool
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