Carried Away

Today, I got carried away.
Instead of work, I play.
Sometimes I forget to live
without stress. The older
I get, the shorter the days.
Today, I got carried away
from what I was doing.
Half the time, I don’t know
which direction to go.
The other half of the time,
I don’t know if I should
go outside or stay in
and hide. These long legs
carry me away. One point
to the next. Feeling blessed
in my chest, I hold my head
high. I look to the sky. I see
wings carry birds away.
I feel the wind chill my skin.
I can count on my days
getting carried away.
My mind might stray, yet
my body will stay. Blue
skies littered with birds
help me find the words
needed to carry me away.
I look ahead and know that
one day, blues fade to black.

Day Ones

Shoutout to my day ones! They keep me grounded.
My day ones have been there; they have been
around. They were there to keep me safe – to help
me, even if it was late. My day ones showed me
a light that was kept from my sight. Day in,
day out, life became more important. Life
suddenly was a flame that could now be tamed.
In the midst of chaos, we would not focus on
the loss. We had fun with no attention paid
to the cost. My day ones are real ones. I know
I can count on them. They know I am there
for them, and I always have been. Day one:
our lives began. Then, we noticed the fast
hands of time. Now, we wish we can hit
rewind. Time’s flown, and my friends and I,
well, we are grown. Regardless, my day
ones may have aged, but our love for each-
other has come and has remained the same.

Because

Because of my past, I see
a world unique to me.
Because of my experience,
I have seen life from
the other side of the fence.
Because of the times I hurt,
I learned to be aware: alert.
Because of the times of joy,
I rebuild people, places,
and hope once destroyed.
Because of the past pain,
I learned to train my brain,
and welcome pouring rain.
Because of the steep slope,
I found new ways to cope.
Because of the challenge,
I have found my balance.
Because of people like you,
I know to push on through.




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.


Remember When

Remember when things were different?
The sky was a different color. It was
a different day with different weather.
Remember when we would laugh on
the back of the bus
? Remember when
we wished for this day to appear
out of thin air?
All we wanted to do
was grow up. Do you remember
when we were young and naïve?

We never thought our youth would
leave. Beneath a tree, we wished
for a better world: brighter skies.
Remember when life was simple?
Me neither, but I try to imagine
a time back then that must’ve
been some of our better days.
Anyways, remember when
life was not a maze or a haze
that would stay?
Remember
when all was well? Do you
remember when we thought
life was easy?
We can’t forget
where all the time went.
We must remember when
before the next story begins.