Robert Joseph: I consider myself to be a casual writer at best, leaning more toward prose than poetry. I'm a musician at heart (Drums & Vocals) I've been writing since I was a child, mostly for my own enjoyment, and have just recently over the course of the last 10 months begun to share my writing publicly.
The Joy of His Tears
He use to hold her as if love
was new born -- his only child --
and his embrace was the cradle
of its infancy.
But now, he rocks the still air,
clinging to a blanket in which
she once coddled to the warmth
of his chest.
He breathes, just barely enough
to hold his life, and recalls the
slow, shallow breaths taken
during her sanctuary in
Never too deeply, as all he desired
to know was the fragrance of her hair,
never wanting to awaken her, as the
peace of her heart was the joy of
And now the depth of his own humanity
opens greater still, the soon to be realized
failing of his own heart.
Known but for a season, then burned away
by the summer's heat, frail life as the petal
of a rose, she wilted in his arms.
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