On the Way

I am on the way. There’s not much
to say. You will see me again, soon.
Nothing will stop me from getting
to you. There’s no way of forgetting
the days that came before. Time
will go on when my mind is gone.
My spirit will never leave yours.
I will stay with you for the encore.
I am on the way. I will be there
soon. One day, we will meet
on the moon. We got two tickets,
two seats, and two reasons to live.
Whatever you want, I will give.
I am on the way. With you, I’ll stay.

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.