Who are you to judge

Who are you to look at me and so self-righteously judge

I have survived the monsters that creep from emotional sludge

The ones that pull and rip at you even at your very best

The ones that cause your heart to ache immensely beneath your chest

You have not been even close to the furnace where I am

You could not hold up for one minute in this storm where I stand

Do not pretend you understand empathize with or see me

You know nothing of my inner demons that refuse to free me

Faith is nothing without the unbridled will to fight

Put down your plastic condemning faux sword of right

Phony concern and a thinly masked condescending face

Go back from where you came this is not your place

Take your cliches and your advice and ride them home

I’d rather continue the unwinnable battle honorably and alone

Say what you want to my face or… wait til my back is turned

It is not my self-respect and unforgiving soul that will be burned

I have always followed my heart come what will or what may

Will you still be able to look at yourself in the mirror every day

As insignificant as I am you are no angel… no… better than me

Maybe someday you will come closer to a great… weight lifting epiphany  

Daggers and blame solve nothing and all of us should be free

Writer's heaven

I Hope there is a place where fallen authors go

Where words never fail them and they never hear no

Somewhere where they are appreciated and revered

Where rejection does not exist so it is not feared

Where there is time to spare to think and write

Where sleep is not needed and it is never night

A place where all the greats sit and share their thoughts

A place where prompts are never needed or sought

A place for all the greats to always cross paths

Tolkien, Hemmingway, Clancy, Wolfe, and Plath

Perhaps they would have tea with Stoker and Poe

A session of the most helpful writing tips they know

Occasionally letting in meek hopefuls like myself

So I could tell them how their books, in life, sat upon my shelf

I would tell them what they meant to me and so much more

How honored I was to walk into this special heaven’s door

I hope there is a place where fallen authors go

Where words never fail then and they never hear no