The abyss

I've seen the abyss but I didn't collect a ticket
Most of the time I'm lucky and don't go near it

But I know others that have a little house on the edge
Comfortable walking the path around that ledge
It's the life they know
Where their fate flows
And I'm amazed at the strength they never fail to show

I've not stared too deep, and don't wish to any time soon
But I've seen deep into the eyes of those whose abyss is in full bloom
And I want to say
That everything is ok
And opine that all is fine and not to go that way

But I wont do them the discourtesy of pretending
That I have the answers to a thing I'm not questioning
They know better than I
Where answers lie
Those shouting into the deep abyss the eternal why

Just know I'm here, and I'll venture near with a rope
Doing all I can to stay an honest man and help you cope

There's things I can't help with. But some I can.
If you need some support, then take my hand.

Father's Day

Classically trained, is something I've never been

But I've learned a few lessons from the things I've seen

In trying to learn what life is and what it means

I've realised I can't trust those things I see on screens

A father, and a son.

A person, and a person.

One is old, one is young.

And they're all different, every one.

But I see the same relation again and again

Always a static figure contrasted with growing pain

A son learning how this world is so strange

The father out of touch and unwilling to change

There's bitterness between them, never too long

There's affecting between them, never too strong

Cookie cutter enough to appeal to the throngs

A neighbourhood nearby they could easily belong

And that's just it.

Why it's off just a bit.

Why this image doesn't sit.

Why it doesn't seem to fit.

People don't average out.

We're different in different ways.

We whisper and we shout.

We're different on different days.

We do things we'll regret, that we never repeat.

Others regretful things we do almost every week.

We wonder how we achieved our greatest feat.

Why our thoughts don't match the words we speak.

So: a son, and a dad.

Both good, both bad.

Both happy, both sad.

Both people, and a little mad.

On earth, there are millions of father-son relations

Each unique, dependent on the father-son situation.

The history, time of day, circumstances, and location

All with varying levels of infatuation.

With all this variety, I must remember mine isn't the same.

A son, Harry (that's me!), and my dad who I never call James

We are not the father-son relation that has reached such fame

We are our own thing, and that's no source of shame.

We've learned how to talk about difficult things.

We've seen each other struggle. And a little of what that struggle brings.

But we care for each other. In our own special, and honestly, quietly lovely way.

So, from this son,  I'll wish my Dad, a happy father's Day.

My suggestion for a song for the UK to enter into Eurovision

See
I'm done with the guilt and I'm done with the shame
And I'm done with making you feel the same
So I'll admit that it's me and finally
You'll see, that I'm taking the blame.

I know I was needy
I kept asking for more
I made you need me
No longer at war

But I didn't know
All that you had done
And I didn't show
That we had to be one

So I took and I took
And I kept on taking
And now it looks
Like our bond is breaking

So
I'm done with the guilt and I'm done with the shame
And I'm done with making you feel the same
So I'll admit that it's me and finally
You'll see, that I'm taking the blame.

I lied to myself, yes
I see that now
I was selfish
I broke our vow

We pledged good health
And we did our best
We shared our wealth
And we tried to invest

But it was my way and my say
Or I said that I'd leave
Now I have to pay
The debt I've received

And
I'm done with the guilt and I'm done with the shame
And I'm done with making you feel the same
So I'll admit that it's me and finally
You'll see, that I'm taking the blame.

I, just wanted control
I, never saw my mistakes
I, didn't know my goals
I, caused it all to break

And I got what I wanted
You gave into my demands
The victory I flaunted
But I had no plans

Now I realise what we had
But I was on the attack
So I wont call you mad
If you don't take me back

But finally
I'm done with the guilt and I'm done with the shame
And I'm done with making you feel the same
So I'll admit that it's me and finally
You'll see, that I'm taking the blame.

Yeah,

I'm done with the guilt and I'm done with the shame
And I'm done with making you feel the same
So I'll admit that it's me and finally
You'll see, that I'm taking the blame.

Finally
You'll see

That I'm taking
The blame

The word disappeared

Each word is energy
And it fades with time
The echos dissipate
From every line

Maybe it bounces
Lasts a little longer
Hits an ear
Becomes a little stronger

Changes form
Into neural wiring
Words are power
If they are inspiring

Passed on, repeated
If they have aid
Words can gain energy
These rare words, don't fade

I've thought of this topic before, but the best version of it was already written by someone else, in my opinion - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GWaplwRa7Ko