Wasting Away

Days fly, and they don’t
say “hi!” or wave “bye!”
Days fade as memories
are made. No time to be
afraid. The world turns
just how a candle burns.
None of that concerns
me. I try my best to feel
blessed – to digest stress.
I try not to waste away,
but I must have my rest.
Like a car sitting alone
in an empty parking lot:
Sometimes, I’m all I got.
I am the bullet being shot.
Will I hurt or help? Die
or try? Crawl or Fly?
Should I wonder why?
Do I fall or do I rise?
Either way, I wont waste
time easily misplaced.
I choose to face the day
instead of wasting away.




The Escape Artist

I slide through a window.
Dropping two stories to
the ground. I run around
trying to find a place
to escape. I am gone;
I am free from the past
and the shadow it casts.
I run down the street
with the toughest feet.
Barefoot and confused:
the moon is my muse.
I was free – a simple sign
To escape again. I escape
to find the perfect rhyme –
words that define my life.

The Power of Pain

This pain paints a sad picture.
It cuts deeper than you now.
This pain tastes really bitter
as a river of tears flow.
I feel weak, week after week;
there is happiness I seek.
There is love that I need.
The power of pain can drain
all the thoughts from my brain.
This pain is never the same;
I must be the one to blame.
It is hard to feel good:
the only way people should.
The power of pain is strong
when most the days grow long.
This pain oozes out of me
and refuses to let me be.
This pain controls my life
and lasts long into the night.
I always try to fight it,
the powerful wave of pain.
I hope my light stays lit
during sunshine and rain.

Brace for Impact

Full speed ahead: Time is ticking.

Hold on tight: Time is flying.

Close your eyes to see what’s missing:

Open your ears to always be listening.

Recall your life the best you can.

There’s not much time. Believe me.

Call your friends and lend a hand

So in the end, you’ll be free.

The pain ahead – it’s very real:

So is the life I have lived.

As I get closer, I begin to feel

The misery I have missed.

There’s no stopping it: you live and die.

Your heart’s throbbing. It’ll be okay.

You’re confused; you ask why?

“It’ll be okay” is what I say.

Warrior

He who fights does what’s right.

He who weeps loses sleep.

He who sleeps loses sight.

He who fights makes it right.

He who runs avoids the sun.

He who sits understands himself.

He who cries ends up wise.

He who lies loses size.

He who travels seldom unravel.

He who loves notices doves.

He who seeks isn’t weak.

He who helps needs help himself.

He is lost but knows what’s right.

He is searching all day and night.

He is learning to narrow his sight.

He is turning darkness to light.

He has fought with nothing lost

to become a warrior in his battle.

He was trained to win his fight –

to beat enemies who appear in life.