I don’t write
Because I want
To or because
It’s easy or
Fun or gets
Me noticed or
Makes me happy
I write in
Order to understand
So goes love
We don’t only
Love because we
Want to or
Because it’s easy
Or fun or
Gets us noticed
Or makes us
Happy we love
In order to
Understand those simplest
Of simple things
And there is
A day here
In America on
The last Thursday
In November when
The skies are
Grey and littered
With snow and
The wind blows
Cold against faces
That people carry
Pots dishes pans
Wine and desserts
Into friendly houses
To gather around
A table giving
Thanks for those
Most important things
The greatest of
Which are their
Families however that
Group is defined
A day of
Laughter and football
Of stories and
Old jokes of
Belly busting feasts
Here in America
Today is Thanksgiving
Happy Thanksgiving to
My friends and
Family I’m thinking
Of you all
I’d like to
Know you but
No knowing you
Leads to knew
You I’d like
To think of
You but thinking
You leads to
Thought you I’d
Like to like
You but liking
You requires knowing
And thinking which
For me eventually
Leads to love
Then had loved
Maybe nothing is
Better than the
Something I lost
The world has
Failed to be
A safe place
It’s innocence lost
Replaced instead with
Selfishness and despair
A barren place
Occupied by the
Damned who wander
Aimlessly ignorantly and
Painfully absent of
Even fond memories
Husks of what
They once were
Simply coldly forgotten
Content instead of
Heaping noxious travesties
Designed to fuel
Their flames of
Hopelessness upon the
Living that have
Barricaded themselves behind
The ever eroding
Walls of hope
Fear not being
One of the
Damned for those
Devastated souls do
Not read poetry
If it had
Been up to
Me I’d never
Had picked you
Not because you’re
Not good enough
But because I’m
Not good enough
But oh when
I saw you
You’re all that
I ever saw
Not just with
My eyes but
With my heart
That’s why I
Want to ask
You this question
Please marry me
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 