The Chosen One

You are the chosen one.
You are the burning sun
that lights up the sky.
You are the birds singing:
the sunflowers springing.
You are the love the world
desperately needs. You are,
by far, the most important
one to me and everyone
else. You know how to help
others that don’t know how
to help themselves. You are
beautiful like a naked smile.
You are sweet like honey
and crisp like new money.
You are the chosen one.
It was pretty easy to choose
you because you turn grey
skies blue. I knew to choose
you, and luckily for me,
you knew to choose me, too.


The New Me

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.

Against the Grain

I’ve never been normal in this life.
I’ve been creating my own light.
In this life, I’ve felt day and night.
I’ve run so far to feel alright.
It had never been easy to be
in a place that can’t be seen.
No matter what, I swam upstream;
I loved to play on the other team.
I’ve always been told to go left
but going left never felt right.
When told to talk, I held my breath.
When told to quit, I knew to fight.
I’ve always gone against the grain.
I’ve learned to endure life’s pain.
I’ve walked miles in my own lane.
I’ve walked alone in my own brain.
The path I chose has one red rose.
The rose can only be picked by me.
I’ve felt some highs to find my lows
I swam upstream. I fought the breeze.
I’ve stayed when I was told to leave.
I’ve gone against the grain to be free.

The Open Road Manifesto

2/4 of The Driveway Journals

Enjoy my 6th Self-Published Chapbook. Love you all and keep writing!

Listen to the audio:

Making Memories

My memories fade
as new ones are made.
Although I’m afraid,
I don’t want to forget
the people of my past.
I think about them often.
I can only hope that
these memories last.
The memories I make
could never be replaced.
These memories crowd me;
they follow me around
and sometimes help me
when I am
d
o
w
n.
I’m thankful to be involved
in memories evolved.
My memories fade
as new ones are made,
but I’ll never forget
the things you did.
When I think about us,
it’s my memories I trust.