Shades Of Lives by Bobby Stevenson

A Life Half Lived

Always bending for every wind that blows my way,

Arching to the north, swirling to the south,

Never able to stand in my own true place,

Some see it as a weakness,

Contemptuous, even,

But I know the truth,

It’s because I’m broken inside,

And when they bury me,

It’ll be a stranger they mourn.

Footprints On A Carpet

Even if it’s only footprints on a carpet

Or blades of grass crushed where I once sat

Or a muddy scar upon a garage wall

Where my hand had leant upon

Or a thumb print on a pane of glass

On that day we talked and talked

Or a smile that made your face light up

When you thought of what I said

Or a note left out to tell you news

Now crushed and thrown away

Or a space that I once stood upon

Now emptier in the absence

Even for just one of those

That I’m remembered by

Then I’ll be satisfied in years,

That once,

Just once,

That

I

Was

Here.