Real

You see me 

Or do you 

You see the picture I create 

You see the illusion 

Carefully constructed imagery  

An intricate facade 

Will you be taken in 

By the bright sparkly lights 

Fooled by the spackle and paint 

Concealing ancient cracks 

“I want to know the real you” 

Your hollow words say 

From your equal veneer 

Of lies and polish 

Real reaches out to real 

Truth is touched by truth 

And for all of our bravado 

We still speak 

from behind the curtain 

I want to be liked 

I want to be loved 

Yet, when I wear this false front 

Those never ring true 

Do you like me 

Do you love me 

Do you see me 

Am I real? 

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

January 13, 2026 

An Uninvited Guest

I do not recall issuing an invitation 

Yet, here you are among the passengers 

Riding along in the journey of my life 

I eagerly invited love to ride 

To be a close companion on this trip 

For love smooths the 

I do not recall issuing an invitation 

Yet, here you are among the passengers 

Riding along in the journey of my life 

I eagerly invited love to ride 

To be a close companion on this trip 

For love smooths the road and warms the air 

Happiness also received a summons 

To lighten my spirit and balance life's sorrows 

Always a welcome addition to the party 

Peace was solicited to join the voyage 

Always traveling with calm and serenity 

Making easy an arduous excursion 

Joy, harmony, and friendships were requested 

Expected to tag along as well 

Creating a space away from sorrow and grief 

Then there was you 

An Uninvited Guest 

Seeking to be a close companion 

I did not invite you 

I did not summon you 

I did not solicit you 

I did not request you 

Pain 

Not the villain 

Not a monster 

Not even a force of nature 

But still, there you are 

Never content to ride quietly 

Always with an opinion 

Always ready to be heard 

Rarely willing to stay in the back 

Irritating 

Exhausting 

Uninvitingly intimate 

I did not ask for you 

But I have learned to navigate 

With you in the backseat 

But you are observant 

You notice every pothole 

Every crack in the pavement 

Every mile marker passed in silence 

You remember 

What I try to forget 

You replay conversations 

Rewind moments 

You pointed out 

Where the road was bent 

Before I was ready 

You have no map 

But know every detour 

You have no destination 

Yet you recognize arrival 

Before I do 

I do not trust you 

Still I listen 

Not because you are wise 

But because you are persistent 

You have taught me nothing gently 

But you have taught me thoroughly 

So stay 

(Because you will anyway) 

But stay seated 

Do not touch the wheel 

Do not choose the music 

Do not speak unless spoken to 

You are not my guide 

You are not my purpose 

You are merely 

The uninvited guest 

You refuse to be ignored 

And somehow against my will 

Although you arrived uninvited 

You have made me 

Watch the road more closely 

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

January 10, 2026 

The Necessary Thread

 

You can’t be scared of the pain in life 

It’s the pain that makes it beautiful

The Necessary Thread 

We all have this idea

Of what the perfect life

Would look like

To some 

It has a happy marriage

There are children 

Well adjusted

A good career 

A nice modest home

To others 

It is a life of travel

Visiting far and exotic locales

Experiencing different cultures

Living free of commitment 

Footloose and fancy-free

One thing I find common

In conversations 

About the perfect life

Is the missing piece

Pain

I am not an advocate for pain

I don’t seek it 

Nor inflict it 

But even the perfect life 

Does not avoid it 

Physical, mental, emotional

It waits without bias 

For the ready 

And the unready alike 

We will not avoid it 

The best we can do 

Is to manage it 

And learn from it 

I felt the hurt

I felt the guilt

I felt the anger

I felt the fear

I covered the fear

And blundered forward

Appeased the anger

And wounded a friend

Assuaged the guilt

And forfeited the caring

Deadened the pain

And lost the lesson 

Life is not a numb thing 

It is meant to throb, to ache, to burn 

It is forged in feelings 

It is refined by fire 

Life is meant to be lived 

It is planned to be felt 

It is premeditated to be raw 

Pain is not the story 

It is only the passage 

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

January 9, 2026