What was I thinking?
I’m not even sure that
I know the answer to
that question. Did I ever
mention that, no matter,
the intention, thoughts
become suspended? Days
of my past mix together.
Former ideas whirl around
like a reverberating sound.
I couldn’t tell you what I was
thinking. All I know is what
I was feeling. Hindsight is 20/20.
Some days were bad even when
it was sunny. I look back before
walking through the next door.
We won’t see the end of time.
Our time will end before
the earth stops spinning.
Life goes on. Every right
will be left to be wronged.
Every rhythm lives on
within each timeless song.
The end of time is a sign
that is out of our sight.
The end of time will not
present itself with or without
Mother Earth and her help.
The time we have now
is now the time of the past.
There is no way to pause
as moments fly by fast.
There is no effect without
cause. Life will surround
those up and those down.
The end of time starts
when our souls depart.
Out of the darkness crawled
a monster once feared.
He was casted out, shunned,
and painted as a freak.
The monster never understood
why people hated him.
Before they got a chance
to get to know him, they threw
him away. The monster didn’t
know where to go and,
clearly, he could not stay.
He just wanted to play
with peers his age, but
others avoided him like
the plague. One dreadful
night, the monster was
taken out of sight, far
away from any light.
Many years have passed
without much movement
from the monster until
one day, he heard people
talking outside of his cave.
With the strength he gave,
out of the darkness crawled
a monster now reborn.
The monster visited those
who threw him out
and demanded an apology.
With shock and remorse,
of course, they said sorry
before taking off in a hurry.
The monster took over
the village, not before
a great pillage. He became
the thing they called him:
a monster. He did not feel
bad due to the days he
was sad. The monster
once thrown away found
a new place to play.
Don’t be a dead man walking.
No need to be a sitting duck.
Don’t be down on your luck.
No need to be feeling bad
when you miss all the things
you wish you could have back.
Don’t stare at your reflection
for too long. Change it up.
No need to replay the song.
Move on. Wake up and look
alive. Buy the ticket and enjoy
the ride. Know when to show
and when to hide. Look alive.
No need to slip into the night
when we can just take flight.
Some days are gray days.
Dark clouds. Heavy rain.
No umbrella can help
us stay dry. Some days,
gray days fade to blue.
Most days, raindrops fall
turning seeds into trees.
Some days, the breeze
reminds us of the cold
world we occupy. We try
to get through the gray
days. On the worst days,
we find ways to follow
the light that pierces
the darkness. We have
seen many gray days.
We know it to be tough
when smooth becomes
rough. We know that
life has its ups, downs,
and roundabouts. Life
is full of green grass,
blue skies, gray days
and we are full of life.
Look past the haze;
do not let gray days
take the sunshine away.
IN YOUR DREAMS POETRY 