Moving On

What hurts about moving on
is knowing that what you
once had is now gone. Now,
thoughts don’t skip a beat,
just like a record stuck on
repeat. Flashes of the past
dash by on the other side
of our eyes. Moving on is
like skipping your favorite
song: it just feels wrong.
Pain becomes strength.
Misery becomes history.
Doubt becomes acceptance.
Moving on is going forward.
Staying back is waiting for
life to attack. Don’t be a
victim to a life you’re given.

The Perfect Storm

It’s been raining
for months –
If I said I was dry,
I would have to lie.
The wind has been
blowing prior to me
knowing. People
misplaced. Problems
faced. Dreams chased.
Memories erased.
The perfect storm
is brewing. No shelter
can protect you or me.
We will have to see
what it means
to be caught between
life, nightmares, and
dreams. We are the
eyes of this perfect
storm. Together, we
form chaos and grace
in a world we face.
Rage and elegance:
hell bound and heaven
sent. All we can do
is watch our perfect
storm take shape
and hope we can
enjoy the rain
soaking our brains.

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.

New Waves

New Waves have been made.

Ripples and wakes take shape.

Water flows freely, beneath

me. The sea washes away

pain. Water tames flames

burning wild. New Waves

go with the flow. Old waves

really don’t. The calm sea

breathes like you and me.

New Waves will set us free.

Love and life flows inside

the New Waves that I ride.

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.