Almost Always Sometimes

There are always burdens

to bare across your struggling

shoulders, always troubles

to furrow your brow.

There are always people that

will not like you for reasons

you can’t really fathom, maybe

they judge, maybe they’re jealous.

There are always things that pile

up, that stack themselves in places

you weren’t even aware of, in corners,

on tables, in hearts and minds.

There are always muddy traps to

slow you down, make you drag your

feet and strain to pull your heavy legs

forward.

There are always dissenters, liars,

mean hearts, bullish bullies, coarse

types, and those that cannot believe

you are anything more than you once were.

There are always beasts lying in wait,

hidden in plain sight, in the eyes of

lovers, family, friends, strangers and

the dreams of unrequited passion.

There are always deniers, the doubters,

the show me the crucifixion wounds,

the non-believers, the unmakers, the

wreckers and the breakers.

They’re always in the way, sometimes

outside, sometimes inside, in your head,

in your own heart, in your words, in the

places you don’t like to go.

And sometimes, they won’t let you

finish a poem on a positive note.