Gray Days

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.

Reflection 2.0

I walk past a mirror,
and I stop in my tracks.
I look deep into my own
eyes and see a boy who
does what he can, a boy
making it work, despite
the absence of light.
I look into my eyes and
see a boy looking for
answers to impossible
questions. I am looking
at a boy doing his best
to remedy devastation.
I can’t tell if I am seeing
my own reflection or
that my reflection is
seeing me. I look a few
moments longer, studying
my face and its history.
There is a story to be told
in each smile and frown.
Before I break my gaze,
I remember all my days.
I wave to my reflection
and walk away from
the mirror, knowing
I have nothing to fear.

Don’t Know

I don’t know what you know.
I do know that I don’t know
what you have gone through.
You don’t know what I know.
Many don’t know how roses
grow out of concrete. I don’t
know how some people stay
on their feet. Some do know
how broken hearts can glow.
Most don’t know that it gets
much better. Life can change
much like the weather. We
don’t know that we can be
free. I don’t know exactly
when all will be well, but I
can tell that it will be soon.
Just like the suns and moons:
the forks and spoons; we live
knowing we need each other.
I know life is hard – unfair,
but to know that you care
helps me learn to be aware.

Losing Count

I’m losing count of the days.
I’m not winning this game.
Many moons have fallen
before my eyes. Many stars
have burnt out. Many nights
have come. Many times,
I’ve lost track – lost count.
The number of times?
I’ll never know the amount.
I lose track of the time
as I pen lines that rhyme.
Sometimes, I wish I knew
how many times in life
that I have counted
the same day twice. Still,
the count is gone: lost.
Each line that I’ve drawn
has now been crossed.
Countless of times, I have
wasted time recounting.
Now, I think to myself:
I should’ve been rounding.


Clouds

We all have clouds that surround – clouds
that follow us home. Clouds are a part
of life. Most times, clouds never leave
us – or our sight. Not all clouds are bad.
Clouds will be clouds just like how
kids will be kids. Let them be. Let them
believe that they can be proud. Clouds
will guide us to where we need to go.
Allow clouds to be something we see
and need. Not all clouds are bad. Most
clouds want to be noticed. Clouds can
come and go, but they will always be
watching us for as long as we know.