Falling Star

Your eyes glow in the night much like street lights

That guide me through the harsh darkness of life.

Your words can pierce the tongues of those who shout

about the very things that instill doubt.

Your mind can change the way others can think

and it can pull out heavy minds that sink.

Your feet take you to the places unknown

and they somehow always lead you back home.

Your soul pushes against the body you use

and fights a battle your body might lose.

Your laugh can take crowds and show them grey skies

and can make a small heart double in size.

Your will to live gives me the strength I need

to find the power to set myself free.

Your sight looks past the people who lack heart

and sees broken things as a form of art.

Your time is spent helping falling stars

find a home whether that’s on Earth or Mars.

Your life has changed the very way my eyes see

and gave me the strength I need to be.

Much like you, I live a life to become better

and to realize “I” is just a letter.

You’re the falling star coming to stay

and the light I need to keep the darkness away.

Dance with the Devil

Lights. Camera. Action.

No time for relaxin’

As I spent a fraction

Of my life reacting.

Through my days,

I rely on a mood

That brings forth

My best attitude.

Now the process begins.

My name is yelled

And I present myself.

Silence fills the room

Eyes become wide.

But I don’t hide.

“Are you ready?”

Says the guy.

“Yes!” I cried.

Feeling alive,

I enter a room.

That just so happens

To be my tomb.

Shocked and confused,

I naturally refuse.

Tears drop like rain

And to my surprise,

I feel no pain.

I face the man

And see his eyes

And see a story 

Of my demise.

But I turn around,

Leaving after a minute

Because I realized

That I’m not finished.

Reboot

Like a machine, I

serve a purpose;

To remember memories

that others forget.

Like a machine,

Often mistreated.

I work regardless,

never defeated.

Like a machine, I

fit the puzzle.

Just a piece,

another lost soul.

Like a machine, I

tend to slow down

to an easy pace,

quieting my sound.

Like a machine, I

try to be human.

Exhibit behaviors

others are doing.

Like a machine, I

Rely on touch.

Being used by someone

is never enough.

Like a machine, I

too rust.

I stay clean

before the dust.

Like a machine, I

need support.

Constant repairs,

no need to abort.

Like a machine, I

find my way.

Wishing to function

just another day.

The Inception of Perception

I perceive a new life

Through my eyes now aged.

I’m a new type,

Freed from a cage.

I believed so much

When I was younger.

I touched the sky

Before the thunder.

Things look different

Than before.

Back when monsters

Hid behind doors.

I see a new light

Previously covered

With a new sight

Different from others.

The vision is different

As my eyes adjust

To everything changing.

My perception I trust.

The Price of Picky

The wickedness of life

Comes with no cost,

Yet the price of picky

Can make us lost.

Picky can’t guide

Us to happiness we seek

As the life we were given

Did not come cheap.

I breathe air consumed

By the worst of faces

Who have no regard

For other spaces.

Surrounded by strangers

Latching to pain

Exhibiting angers

With no refrain.

 But I can’t afford

A life of sorrow.

For I’ll be happy

To wake tomorrow.