Reach

It has always been a reach to be who I am.

my friend

my friend,i remember the photograph-wrinkled old days,streaming golden sunlight under white cloudswhere we sat on broken-down benches,staring at the future together. my friend, i remember the fights and the make-ups,the tears and the touch-ups,the fear and the happiness that consumed our lives,i remember everything. my friend,i found your shadow wandering around the district today,lost with

redemption

it’s the chilly breezethat sweep through the empty room,flowing over decimated soulsthat makes him wake. inside that hallowed soul,where dust and cobwebs dwell,a match sparks, a light burns,winter slowly turns into spring. the rattling of chainsand the heavy presence of cuffsfinally fallen away…(it’s hard walking without them). but, slowly, the smile rises,like the sun on