Upside Down

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.

Kingdom of Light

It’s up the stairs and to the right.
Welcome to the Kingdom of Light.
We have been waiting for you.
We left the door open hoping
you would explore the other side.
We are filled with joy to enjoy
what life is left. The Kingdom
of Light accepts all walks of life.
Darkness fleets in fear of being
exposed by beams of white found
inside the Kingdom of Light.
You and I will work as a team
to resurrect a dying dream.
Let me be the first one to say
that we can turn black to grey,
grey to green, green to white,
and white to bright lights.
Welcome to the Kingdom of Light:
a happy place far out of sight.

The Other Way

I went the other way. Away from the light
of day. I went to see what it was like to
climb the tallest peak. I waved and wished
luck to those going the other way. They were
happy to go. So was I. Away, I went, on a path
that was new and scary. Light ran the other
way. I pushed on, past the darkest path.
When I arrived to the hill, I sprinted
up to the top. I didn’t stop; I stomped my foot,
yelling: “Look, I found the peak!” I was high
enough to see what we’ve been looking for.
I found our lost village. I don’t know why
I went the other way. I just knew there was
more to be seen. I went the other way
to find a forgotten place – once erased.

Scars

Blood runs blue from the outside

Until curiosity builds too strong

What courses thru us takes human shape

Once a wound can be examined

A story is told of how it opened

Bravery takes a hand and moves it to feel a scar

But hope keeps one finding out more

As a finger’s path exposes each pink bump

Inconsistently weaved in one’s skin,

A story is told of how it opened.

A finger reached smooth skin

But hated how flat it felt.