Mostly Poetry

The downside to being so free
Is that everyone else seems like they are in prison
And they want you to wear their chains

The downside to being sensitive
Is that your heart breaks easily, and often
And others just don’t understand your pain

The downside to being honest
Is that you’re stuck with the painful truth
Even when you’d rather lie to yourself

The downside to believing in heaven
Is that you are likely to also believe in hell
So you live with a confusing mixture of hope and fear

The downside to living
Is that someday you will die
Whether you choose to accept it or not

~wbv

~wbv

I never will forget
Our night with Billy Joel
He played to your weakness
As I laid out my soul
And my heart, my desires,
What I thought were my dreams
The piano was playing
To love-making scenes

We knew what we wanted
Our hearts were laid bare
The piano reflected
What was happening there
Billy gave me honesty
And you gave me the night
Our burdens were heavy
And our inhibitions, light

In what seemed like scenes
From an Italian porn movie
The lights were soft
And the music was groovy
You wanted, you didn’t
To set yourself free
You were always a woman
To Billy and me

The fire was burning
Though we didn’t start it
It was passed down to us
From a world that forgot it
While playing with fire
To songs that he sung
Dear Billy assured us
That we wouldn’t die young

You may think I’m crazy
And you may be right
But I still don’t regret
What happened that night
We were strong on beginnings
And weak in the end
Nothing but a river of dreams
And two friends

And an unhappy ending
To a story never spoken
And so goes the music with
One heart left broken
One ruined friendship
And two injured souls
And so went the night
That we spent with Billy Joel

~wbv

There are eight locks on this door
All lined up from top to bottom
Eight locks to keep intruders out
Eight reasons I wonder whether or not
I belong in front of this door

There are eight obstacles…
Oops
Seven.

I broke the top one.

There are seven locks on this door
All lined up from top to bottom
I already broke one
So why not another

I have a crowbar, after all
Six, five, four, three

There are two locks on this door
Hanging loosely near the bottom
I can pry the door open enough to peek in
And what I see on the other side

Is sufficient reason

To tear the door off the hinges
And forget that the locks ever existed.

~wbv