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.




Take Me

Take me home: the place I love.
Let the positive vibrations take
me away. Let the rhythm solve
my problems. Take me into
your place of refuge. Take me
to a distant place: a foreign land.
If you can, take me by the hand.
Take me, and teach me about
life, love, forgiveness, and truth.
Reggae, stay; continue to play.
Take me closer to myself –
I could use your guidance.
The waves of sound wash
away the worry: no hurry.
I can breathe and clearly see
the place you wish to take me.

Washing Away

Life, before my eyes,
has been washing away.
The vast ocean takes
what I took for granted.
The vast ocean makes
me stay in my place.
On the edge of the beach,
I feel water beneath me.
I look ahead and I see
life, before my eyes,
washing away. Nothing is
here to stay. Life comes.
It goes before the water
hits my toes – all the same.
Many have washed away
after dancing in the rain.
After all, I can’t complain;
We all endure some pain
inside the same hurricane.

How to; Write a Poem

Sit down. Close
Your eyes. Feel
Emotions wash
Over your soul.
Sit for a while.
Run a mile
In your mind.
Return to
Your body. Pick
Up your pen.
Then, lay down
Your journal.
Look internally,
Eternally. Let
Words flow
On the page.
Break free
From the cage
Causing you
Rage. Release
The pain inside
And find
That silver line
In each rhyme.
Rid yourself
Of the stress –
Put to rest
The weight
You carry
In your chest.
Write with no
End in sight.
Wrong or right,
Live a life
Worth writing
About before
Your pen’s ink
Runs out.

Writing in the Rain

Rain dropped from the rooftops.
Some brought their umbrellas.
Others couldn’t see the rain coming.
People couldn’t handle being wet,
yet this is where their life was set.
For a second, everybody felt
the same way about something.
Rain touched every person there.
As others felt the rain turn to pain,
I wanted to write in the rain –
to wash away any stains.
I wrote in the rain and got soaked;
Writing in the rain helped me grow.
I felt ease with the rainy breeze.
I knew I was different; You did too.
My paper got wet; I didn’t stop.
I wanted to feel every raindrop.
I wanted to feel the rain as I knew
the rain would pass. It didn’t last.
Not before long, the rain stopped.
The sun arrived after some time.
My wet clothes dried quickly.
I looked down at my clothes;
I felt happy to see and know
the rain washed away my stains.