I was born in agony, my heart ripped from my chest, weak, crying, alone. I was born the day, Karen, my wife, died.
Trapped in a cocoon of grief. Blind with pain, I stumbled down paths I'd never known. Friends guided my way. Brief connections, a hug, the touch of a heart, a spark in the darkness, a little pain bleeding away.
Now, years I wished never to survive gone by. Wings unfurled, I need to share the joy that fills my heart. Help new Friends find blue sky. Mike Walsh