What is done is done. We wave hello to the sun.
We never forgot about the moon. We need both
the fork and the spoon. The day may be gone,
and time may be flying, but I am still trying.
In the sky, I see birds bobbing and weaving.
I can’t take my eye off what is now leaving.
I loved, cried, and smiled in the past tense.
I live in the present where it just makes sense.
The memories stay as the past fades away.
The future is bright: I’ll be there one day.
You may feel like you’re under
the bus. Maybe, someone threw
you there. To be clear, you can
get from under that bus. Trust
that you can get out and about.
The feeling will go away. Don’t
stay feeling that way. Believe
that you are the bus driver:
the one who is in full control.
Besides, no one knows you or
your soul better than you do.
Slam on the gas pedal. Embrace
that sound of screeching metal.
Sure, make pit stops here and there.
Just don’t stop for all that long.
Fly down the highway blasting
your favorite song. Feel like you
are under the bus? Grab the wheel
and knock off the dust. Drive. Drive
and drive. It’s time to feel alive.
The wickedness of life
Comes with no cost,
Yet the price of picky
Can make us lost.
Picky can’t guide
Us to happiness we seek
As the life we were given
Did not come cheap.
I breathe air consumed
By the worst of faces
Who have no regard
For other spaces.
Surrounded by strangers
Latching to pain
Exhibiting angers
With no refrain.
But I can’t afford
A life of sorrow.
For I’ll be happy
To wake tomorrow.
IN YOUR DREAMS POETRY 