standing still
in the margin
of a dog eared diary
patterns appear then disappear
no hero here
no hero here

transparent are the entries
where I failed to write (right) the wrong
vicariously my pen ran clear
no hero here
no hero here

braving pulp and ink
within the passages I sink 
as if the pages turning so turn me
into the oblivion to reconcile 
the now from then

discovering the in-between
is something more than memory
if I could become
what I have learned from loving you

according to my journal
who tallied every time
I needed to love but only could fear
no hero here
no hero here

a sweet epiphany 
is something time has given me
so if the world is turning so turns me 
onto the oblivion to reconcile 
the now from then

discovering the poetry
a black discarded version of me
who’s bound to become
someone who’s learned from loving you

the sad reality
is that I miss your company
so if you are obliging pardon me
from out of the oblivion to reconcile 
and start again

discovering the mystery
of something I could not foresee
that I have become
what I have learned from
loving you