I would never consider myself a poet, but there are times where I am at a deep place within my own soul and it sort of writes itself. Below are two such poems. One was written over two years ago about my father. The second is more recent. The one thing they have in common is I have no recollection of actually thinking while writing them. They literally just flowed right from my subconscious. Enjoy!!

As I sit

As I sit
I think of him
the first to leave me
the first to sin

He never cared
and I always tried
to be the best
in hopes of love

So now I sit
and think why is
why is this place
so evil and cruel

Is it him
or is it me
or possibly it is
nothing at all
but the nature
of the beast
that lives in me

How do I crawl out
to find my way
full circle i think
back to him

to take him away
from who i am
so i can live
free


Why

why if I
can be open
and me

that i must
find
the closed
and mean

I am who
I am
and cant
change

something
is wrong
why
is this happening
to me?

over and over
same
response

the heart
is evil
and mine
is lost

~mich