Life has turned upside down.
The king has lost his crown.
The skies turned grey. The light
blinded those who could not
look away. Time still escapes
youthful hands every single day.
The ground is falling upwards.
The sky stayed beneath the feet
of those who never took a seat.
Worlds can turn upside down,
but adjustments can be made.
Life is a hard game we all play.
Some win. Some lose. Some
live to die. Some die to live.
Life’s gift is the time it gives.
Many hurt, but they keep
moving. They keep going.
Monsters lurk without
many knowing. Battles
are fought in silence.
Wars are won without
violence. Hurt riddles
the bones inside our
bodies. The hurt stays
close to remind all
that even the strong
fall. Hurt and pain:
it’s all the same. Rain
or shine, be glad that
another day came.
With all due respect,
we all hurt, in one way
or another. Don’t let
the hurt cut into your
joy. The hurt and pain
may never go away;
give yourself a break –
protect the happiness
the hurt wants to take.
A Poet’s dream is to be heard
and not seen. A Poet’s dream
is to create, to wait, and to
discover one’s own fate.
A Poet’s dream manifests itself
in words, sounds, and mounds
of half-written ideas found
under the surface: underground.
A Poet dreams a dream brighter
than the sunlight and better than
a good night under the stars’
inviting sight. A Poet’s dream
is to change the world –
to rearrange things to release
one’s hidden pain. Just like
ghosts, Poets do not show them-
selves, but they do know them-
selves. A Poet’s dream
is to live a life that can manifest
itself before and during the night.
I want to be a better me.
I want to change, evolve.
There are mysteries
I need to solve.
Stronger, wiser, better –
I want to be sunny
weather. I can see
a better me in the days
ahead. I want to be
well-read, well-spoken:
well said. I want to be
well. One day, believe,
you will see a better me.
Which face will I wear today?
What words do I need to say?
Throughout my day, I relay
words coming from within.
I begin by thinking away –
planning just how to begin.
Every day has its own face.
It just depends on my state.
I face the music. I face
the facts. I face many things.
I can wear many faces.
I do what I can to get out
of my own way. I’m happy
I get to face another day.
IN YOUR DREAMS POETRY 