League13

old photographs,
fading images
of people once known.

Who then am I? Worker, Father, Son and Husband, All these and so much more. And everything fragmented in tiny [...]

Stale then is the heart that battles in vain, When the joy that comes from striving Goes unrewarded again and again And, weary now, the mind grows dark, But never silent. … If there lingers still amongst the pain of life, Any claim upon existence It is just a defiant spark of hope; Faltering and weak As the tired grasp of a child.

Beneath the shell, the haunting
As dead dreams ferment;

in an ordinary town
death stalks
an ordinary clown;

souls drift
through endless cycles
touching briefly
moving on