Take a look at the new me.
Don’t I look so different?
I couldn’t tell you where
the time went or how
commonsense was spent.
The current me is new,
and I live to be better –
more refined and defined.
The old me helped me see
what could be. The old me
didn’t care about we.
The new me believes
it takes a village to set
all free. Me – old, young,
fresh, or rotten – can’t
be forgotten. The old me
wanted what I now have.
It is time for the new me
to have the last laugh.
Hahaha – Blah Blah Blah.
Each day, an old book closes. The story
is finished; the pen runs dry. Each page
is filled with a bunch of smaller stories:
memories: words that echo through
the skulls of its reader. One day,
the story we are navigating through
will expire as we retire – as the fire
dies – souls will fly into open skies.
Lies will become truths. Rough will
become smooth. Old age will become
youth. We are the characters inside
an open book that will, one day,
be closed – to be open once again
by a different pair of hands.
Until the book closes, look closer
at the plot and decide your ending:
one better than you ever thought.
Keep writing your story. Make it
a good one. We are still writing;
let’s make a book that someone
would want to pick up and read:
a plant grown from a small seed.
Today is the day. We all get together.
There’s so much to say. It can’t get better.
To see you all again, it means the most.
We are now men, the game show hosts.
So much time has flown on by.
The sun still shined when clouds cried.
We are here now on this very day.
We made a vow to remain the same.
This reunion is the only thing I need:
To feel the same – to fan the flame.
We have grown and flown from home.
We all drifted apart with the same heart.
Yesterday was the day we all met.
When we met, it felt like no one left.
This reunion was much needed
as our love is deeply rooted.
The wind presents itself
and meets green leaves on trees.
The trees are larger than me
and can make it hard to see.
Trees protect me from the breeze.
Trees gift me the air to breathe.
I look up to the tall trees
and I start to count to three.
I freeze in time and think: please.
Please let me catch all your leaves.
I love the trees above.
These trees taught me how to love.
I feel pain as trees are cut
down to the ground, we don’t touch.
I look up to the trees around,
strong trees waiting to be found.
I try to never look down.
These trees are older than me
and are stronger than the breeze.
So, why not just let them be?
The trees above show me love.
The trees above set me free.
Heavy air leaves my mouth,
As I sigh and wonder ‘why’.
I deflate my chest before looking south;
I breathe so heavy up toward the sky.
I wonder and worry, but I’m in no hurry.
Time became rough, but I remain tough.
I sigh and I weep until the hour I sleep.
I feel so bad: the worst feeling to have.
I push on through this life so steep;
This breath I take won’t be my last.
I swim these waters blue and deep
And navigate unknowns without a map.
I aim and miss but still shoot for bliss.
I stumble and stare thru the thin air.
Broke and beat, I never take a seat
I worry a lot but I avoid defeat.
Take away my worries and all of my fears:
Remove my worries for the rest of my years.
IN YOUR DREAMS POETRY 