Poem for Anita

Oh steadfast sun!
Oh faithful sun!
If only friends and lovers could be like you,
Honest in your devotion, so very true,
Never ending rays, always bright and never blue.
Yet with that in mind, a kind blistering sun!
Oh sunburnt man!
Sometimes those rays that sooth, they betray all fun!
Oh blistered man!
When you finally wake and move,
Recant the day, those sordid kisses crying in some wretched groove, 
In the dark and all alone, before the coming dawn,
Standing naked, shivering under a persevering waterfall,
Realizing everyone and everything you loved is gone,
All those sun dreams you dreamt, wondrous thoughts so grand and very tall,
Ripping open your abject heart, discovering what might truly yet be there,
Mem'ries you find, worshiped bits and pieces that hope once called,
Fragments of what once was, things at times seemed so good and fair,
Still you sit pondering, under the burning mortal sun,
All alone rehearsing love poems and songs, as if some immortal cared.
Thus you woke again, wearing an expectant hopeful guise,
All that desire and optimism you frankly shared,
Blurring hopeful vision, flooding your unbelieving eyes,
While familiar rivers of words, accompanied by endless tears, always run,
Until another bitter day is finally settled and thankfully done,
Still somehow, something better dared,
While all that something, however uncertain it was,
Rested all that pain and sorrow, all those fatal flaws,
Appeasing weeping wounds, easing blistered scars, left by an indifferent sun.