The Battle

There are some things I can deny
only for so long...
it was one of the main reasons
why I wrote so spontaneously
and enigmatically
but, you know....
it was really the only way...
drawing you in
captivating your...
curiosity.
constantly pushing the boundaries
with words
and unspoken innuendos.
few understand the reasons
why we live as we do
why we do what we do...
why we must
continually immerse ourselves
into battle
again
and
again.
I am speaking
to the Mac I once knew
all those years ago
eyes full of fire
and passion
and rage
for the many injustices
witnessed
and endured.
I wonder...
if those same eyes
still reflect
the soul
of a poet warrior
I once sat with
on a park bench swing
talking and sharing
into the night...
our stories converging
and twisting
like branches of an ancient Oak tree...
or
do they reflect
someone I
no longer know?

Sometimes, I'm envious.
I see strollers and white picket fences.
Songs full of joy and vigor.
And I sit with stories
and secrets...
exploitation
greed
abuse
wives that are
'legal prostitutes'
masquerading as marriages
how different our worlds are
how isolated I sometimes feel
wanting so much to appreciate
all these good things
but knowing what needs to be done
that in order for me to fully comprehend
the chaos
to engage in battle
is to first understand it.
And that,
is only the beginning.