Sometimes, I sit there
and wonder. I think
as blue birds sing.
I get lost in thought
as church bells ring.
I drift away. I wonder
about things that
can’t be changed.
I wonder if I ever
broke out the cage.
I wonder about
the past. I remember
keeping track.
I wonder as rain
dances with thunder.
Sometimes, I sit there
and wonder. I forget
where I am. I fade
away before I
remember what
I was going to say.
Sometimes, I wonder.
Still. Silent. Content.
Sometimes, I wonder
where the time went.
Don’t believe me when I say
that boys don’t cry. They do.
Those who don’t cry need to.
The weight of tears will hold
you down. Release the tears
that have remained hidden
for all of these years. Boys
cry; so do men. Well, at least
they should. Life is heavy
within this setting. It is
unsettling when boys don’t
cry. Let it go; cry alone. Cry
now, later, or whenever –
whatever weather. Cry
because it is out of love.
Cry because you’re hurt.
Cry because you’re happy.
Let the tears drop, so that
the pain can stop. Just cry
because you have this life.
In this life, I’ve seen you at night
haunting me and my dreams.
I don’t go a day without seeing
the ghost of you. You left me,
but your spirit did not leave.
I’ve heard your voice. I’ve tried
to say hello. I’ve tried to touch
your shadow that always showed.
I’ve been haunted by memories
that only your shadow knows.
The real you couldn’t be found;
yet your ghost stayed around.
Only I can see the ghost of you:
As long as I live, I’ll be able to see,
the ghost of you, in front of me.
We drive this road all day.
We drive from April to May.
We drive this road so much.
We’ve almost lost our touch.
This road made us who we are.
This road can take us far.
This road can break our cars
and remind us of our scars.
This road brought joy and pain;
it was there in sun or rain.
We drive until we pass.
If something blocks our way,
then we turn around fast.
We will go. We can’t stay.
We drive until we turn back
on this road painted black.
It’s our turn to turn around –
to return to an old sound.
Things. People. Moods
Change
Faster than I blink.
Thoughts. Moods. Feelings
Change
The way people think.
I have felt a million moods –
Each mood is apart of me.
I have moods with attitudes
Affecting me and how I see.
Life passed on with time gone;
I still feel a million moods.
I still feel both right and wrong
and a dying need to feel you too.
IN YOUR DREAMS POETRY 