Unsweet Thoughts

To love for some is just pretend,

to love for some is a fond friend.

To love for some means happy ends,

to love for some means heartbreaks mend.

But to others love does mean,

a short rushed feeling the length of dreams.

When your eyes open again, there you are alone in bed.

Alone again just like before, eyes wide open with one new shut door.

You toss and turn to fall asleep,

but when you do the dream’s not sweet.

It has turned into a nightmare,

thoughts of once sweet things now fright you.

To love for some means happy thoughts,

but to others means future sleeps loss.

– Thomas M. Watt

The Man who Tried

There was once a man who didn’t give a damn,

Who tried and he tried and he tried.

The pain brought on tears and oh so many fears,

Of hopes to make his dreams come alive.

The nights all grew dark at that cold winter park,

The swing just always kept swingin’.

But he held on until blue skies at dawn,

The clouds and dreary winds all stopped sweeping.

He had no more fear about losing his years,

Didn’t give a damn about drinkin’,

Tried with his might on those lonely nights,

No time for a lesson on sleeping.

He chose the pain of hope not gone astray,

Chose to believe in the line.

Of sights less known and hopes fully grown,

Of mastering what he was thinkin’.

This man came through and found morning dew,

And summer’s sun started peakin’.

And wouldn’t you know it, the man didn’t show it,

But boy there were tears deep inside.

For his hope came to be and his dream’s destiny,

Was for his life to finally shine.

Boy yes it did, his vacated fear, his years lost to those lonely drives.

Because he fuckin’ did it, yes that man he did it, because he tried and he tried and he tried.

– Thomas M. Watt

Can’t Let Go

Stephanie twisted and turned, covering the sheet over her eyes once more before peeling it off with a whine. It was a new day, the sun was up, and it was time to make a decision.

She sat up in her bed, then scooted until she stooped over the side. She picked up her cell phone again, and reread the last text she had received the night before.

Please forgive me. Please just let it go.

She smeared her face into her hand, then pressed the small keys firmly as she typed, before finally throwing it down, into a messy pile of bras and yoga pants in the corner of her room. She went into the kitchen and brewed herself a cup of coffee.

Returning to her room, she retrieved the phone, then brought it with her to the living room couch. She sat there for sometime, fumbling in her mind for what to respond. Her phone vibrated, and another text came through.

It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done it. Please forgive me.

Stephanie gripped her hand into a claw, then rubbed a fist into her eye. She tossed the phone aside, grabbed a blanket, then curled up and turned on the T.V..

For a while, she tried to watch, but the thoughts wouldn’t cease. Finally, she picked up her cell, then returned to him.

I’m sorry babe, but I can’t forgive you this time.

It was only half a minute before her phone vibrated again.

Why?

She ran a hand through her hair, then felt like death as she responded.

Because she was my best friend.

Stephanie sent it, threw the phone down, and covered herself up with blankets then cried.