Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Music - My Drug
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Music is my drug,
Speakers are my needle.
Turn it up,
Push it in,
Now the fun begins.
Louder and louder,
Deeper it goes,
Nothing else compares,
Nothing else comes close.
Further into the vein it seeps,
This feeling of euphoria,
Compounds by bounds and leaps.
Soon it will reach,
The tips of my fingers,
And the ends of my feet.
My entire body enveloped,
In sheer ecstasy,
Not wanting to let go,
But continue feeling free.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Race of Life
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At the line,
Red light glows,
Heart is racing,
Slight breeze blows.
Almost nervous,
Excitement grows.
A few more seconds,
Patience runs out,
When will this,
Adventure start?
Quiet rumble,
Shaking hands,
Cannot wait,
To beat the man.
Turn the nob,
Radio blares,
The people next door,
Start to glare,
Slightly giggle,
Turn away,
I am me,
Leave me be.
3 2 1,
Green means go,
Shift to first,
Start off slow,
Tires spin,
My car grins,
On our way,
It all begins.
Just starting down,
This race of life,
Who will win?
Let's just see,
It's not just between,
You and me.
But all of us,
Will start sometime,
We shall finish,
In the nick of time,
Not a moment to soon,
Hopefully not late.
Some start early,
Others end late,
Let's just hope,
Doom isn't our fate.
So continue accelerating,
Shifting up when needed,
Avoid the road blocks,
Skip the detours,
Enjoy the ride,
Smell the flowers,
And love life.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
My Only Regret In Life
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For my one and only love. You will never know how sorry I am, even if you do not believe me.
This song of sorrow,
Echoes through the halls.
The scar on my hand,
Reminds me of my mistake,
Everything I see,
Makes my mind hate itself.
Nothing in this world,
Can fix,
That which I have broken.
No amount of mending,
Can heal the wounds that I have caused.
It is impossible,
For all the words in the world,
To undo the choice that I have made.
I must live with this regret,
The only one I have.
Every song on the radio,
Tells me of the idiot I am.
All the movies on the screen,
Push me deeper into this pit of sadness.
The books and stories on the shelf,
Mock and ridicule me.
There isn't a thought process,
That doesn't remind me of what I have lost,
And pushed away.
This is my burden to bare,
None other can feel my pain.
I have torn my own heart,
From my chest,
For I am no longer worthy,
Of the love of another.
My longing for forgiveness,
Fall of deaf ears.
No one will know,
Of the pain,
And suffering,
That I have brought upon myself.
No one can comprehend,
The sadness that I feel.
Nothing can be done,
As I hang my head,
Wallowing in grief,
And self hate.
The Clay of Life
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For Lexi - Thanks for the inspiration
With every single breathe,
Each time your lungs fill with air,
The monotonous ticking,
Of the clock on the wall,
With each passing second,
We are able,
To define who we are.
The decisions we make,
Every single moment,
Will shape us into,
The men and women,
That we will become.
Each new passing day,
Is a new opportunity,
For us,
To show the world,
Who we are on the inside,
To demonstrate who we really are,
Instead,
Of what others portray us,
Or society labels us.
When the time comes,
An you stand,
Face to face,
With the bitter taste,
Of opposition,
How will you stand?
Will you hold firm,
And sing your own tune,
As loud as your lungs can bare,
Throwing your arms into the sky
Displaying for all to see,
Who you really are,
Beneath the skin?
Or will you waver,
Being blown about,
By the winds of conformity,
Forfeiting the very thing,
That makes you unique,
Your voice?
Life is what you make of it,
Will you seize the moment,
And live it to the fullest,
Unafraid of the whispering voices?
Or will you let,
The whispers of the night,
control your every action,
Thus causing you,
To ultimately cease to exist?
Each of us must choose.
What kind of person,
Are you?
Sunday, May 4, 2008
Cold Shower
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My back against the wall,
Knees pulled up to my chest,
Head between my legs,
The bitter cold of the water,
Dripping down my back,
The warmth long gone,
The hours passing along like days,
This agony stretching on,
Never seeming to end.
After so long,
The cold seeps to the bones,
Now numbing the physical senses,
But its all the same.
Eventually,
Life will catch up,
To the cocoon I have created around myself.
Only able to hide,
For so long.
All roads,
Are suddenly coming to an end.
The available options,
Are starting to grow,
Few in number.
There are only,
A limited amount of escape routes.
How can I choose one,
Over another,
When all left over roads,
Are dark and deserted.
The asphalt practically new,
As a result of few travelers.
The suppressed thought,
Pushes forward,
Into my consciousness.
Secretly,
I begin to wish,
That I didn’t have to journey,
Down this dark road,
Alone.
Monday, April 14, 2008
The Woods
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Walking through the forest,
On a small gravel road,
The trees so thick,
No light can penetrate.
Just one small beam,
Illuminates the path.
Impossible to tell,
What lies on either side.
The road ahead,
Looks grim and vague.
Step by step,
Inch by inch,
Wandering further into the thicket,
It's too late to turn back now.
Something catches the eye,
A ways up the lane.
As it draws nearer,
It appears to be,
A fork in the road,
Only two options to choose.
One leads right,
The other to the left.
What lies ahead,
On either side,
Cannot be seen.
The time is now,
Have to choose.
Each path is a loaded gun.
Completely unpredictable.
A quick game of einie meanie,
And the real journey now begins.
No one knows what comes next,
In this crazy game of life,
Lets just hope,
This path I took,
Isn't,
Like playing roulette with a shotgun.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Tears and Rain
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These tears fall from the sky,
Hitting the ground,
Exploding on impact,
Filled with the explosive power,
Of sadness.
With the shrapnel of loneliness,
Blasted in every direction.
The only thing left behind,
Is a crater of hopelessness.
Liquid ore now fills the hole,
Continuously burning,
Digging the hole deeper,
And deeper,With every passing day.
It will not be long,
Until the bottom cannot be seen,
From the top.
There will come a time,
Where not even the longest of latter's,
Or the lengthiest of ropes,
Can stretch tot he depths,
Of this dark abyss.
There will come a moment,
Where people begin to avoid this crater,
For fear,
Of being consumed by it,
And being lost to the world.
Perhaps the day will come,
When the water of the sky,
Fills this fissure,
Not creating more destruction,
But bringing forth life.
A well will be created,
Giving strength,
And life,
To those that drink from it.
While the pit remains just that.
A pit.
Now full of water,
Producing happiness for others,
While it continues on,
In reality,
Unaltered.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Plant
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It all started out so small,
So innocent and fragile.
This one tiny seed,
Being planted in the ground.
A single little bit of hope,
Buried beneath a dream.
Nourished by the water if faith,
Then fed by the light of promise.
It looked as though,
The future of the young,
And vulnerable form of life,
Was going to be nothing but blue skies,
And smooth waters.
Little did they know,
That would be quite the opposite.
For the course of this premature life,
Will soon be altered.
The irreversible event,
Will forever haunt,
The memories of those who,
Will be effected.
As the days go on,
Everything goes along,
Just as predicted.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
Picture perfect conditions,
For a major catastrophe.
What happened here,
That dreadful day,
Will forever be remembered.
As there it sat,
Alone and ignorant,
The pathetic form of life.
Little did it know,
That it had just become,
A victim of despair.
Slowly it begins to creep,
This monster of remorse.
His cunning plan already in effect.
Little does this little plant know.
That it has played,
Right into the snare,
That will cause its own destruction.
Its already too late,
There is no turning back,
The damage has been done.
One choice left,
Mine as well.
Its time to continue on.
The path ahead does not seem fun,
But going back is worse.
The light ahead is very dim,
Details very vague.
Tiss impossible to even predict,
What lies in store.
But there comes a time,
When that first step must be made.
Only inches inside the dark abyss,
Confusion begins to fester.
Deep down inside,
One begins to question,
Why do I deserve this?
Am I really that bad?
The entire life story,
Then begins to play.
Hours of recollection,
Pondering,
And debating,
Trying to decide,
Whether or not,
These cards are well deserved.
However,
Who is there to determine,
What is fair,
Or not?
House of Cards
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Walking through the park,
One dreary afternoon,
Something caught my attention,
Out of the corner of my eye.
Turning to behold the thing,
That had broken my concentration.
Startled with surprise,
Gasping with confusion.
Nothing would have prepared me,
For that which was standing there,
In the middle of a grassy section.
Rubbing my eyes,
Perhaps it isn't real.
Slowly opening the lids,
Not knowing what to expect.
To my surprise,
It was still there.
Curiosity getting the best,
I began to creep towards it,
Slowly,
Half expecting something,
To jump out.
After what seemed like minutes,
I finally arrived at the base,
Of the monstrosity of an object.
Gasping in awe,
As I scaled this behemoth.
If I hadn't of seen it,
With my own eyes,
I would not have believed it .
There in front of me,
Four stories high,
Thirty feet at the base,
Stood,
Somehow on its own,
A house of cards.
I stood there,
Admiring that which was in front of me.
It all seemed perfect,
Too good to be true.
Not a single flaw,
In the architecture.
Upon further inspection,
I had noticed,
The walls of the structure,
Had been worn by the wind.
And yet,
There it stood,
As if no storm,
Could bring it down.
Just then,
As the thought entered my mind,
The loud crack of lightning,
Sounded in the distance.
It continued,
Growing louder with each new bolt.
Soon the smell of rain,
Drifted into my nose.
Instinct was telling me to run,
To seek shelter.
Yet my legs did not move.
I had to stay.
To see how this house of cards,
Would stand up to the elements.
Sudden gusts of wind,
Began to attack the walls.
Yet the house of cards,
Stood firm,
Almost laughing in defiance,
As the winds,
Desperately continued,
To beat against the walls.
But to no avail,
The house has won.
What's this?
I think to myself,
As I raise my hand to eyes level.
There,
In the center of my palm,
Was the one thing,
That spelled out certain destruction,
For this magnificent creation.
Although just one rain drop now,
More was sure to come.
One by one,
They began to fall.
Although just a few didn't hurt,
Over time the consistent bombarding,
Began to take its toll.
The water began to seep,
From the surface,
To the core.
Weakening the very foundation,
That the cards were built upon.
It didn't take long,
Before enough had been soaked up.
This beautiful creation,
Was being destroyed,
From the inside out.
Collapsing under its own weight.
Story by story,
The support beams began to break,
Not being able to hold the weight,
In their damaged state.
It didn't take long,
Before all that was left,
Of the magnificent building,
Was a pile of rubble.
I stood in awe,
Of the events that just took place,
Right in front of my eyes.
There was nothing I could do,
To prevent what had happened.
All I could do now,
Was hang my head,
And keep on walking.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Faces in the Crowd
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Sweat drips to the ground.
Hair rises of the back of the neck.
Pulse quickens,
Pounding against the ears.
Swallowing becoming difficult.
A quick glance over the shoulder,
Reveals the steadily growing crowd.
Shadowy figures moving without a care.
At first they seemed so familiar,
Until a closer look unveils,
The blur that makes up a face.
No more recognizable,
That a tree on a distant mountain side.
The masked mannequins,
Move about without acknowledgement,
As if to be ignorant of my presence,
Almost denying my existence.
I stand there stunned,
As the thickly populated crowd of drones,
Move around and about.
Must think quickly,
Have to act soon,
Before it's too late.
It's either slip back and blend in,
Or stand out and be proud.
Become anonymous,
Another face in the crowd.
Or become an outcast,
Looked down upon by the rest.
The time has come.
What will it be?
I choose exile,
A life of distrust and misery.
How could I not?
After all,
That's me.
The loner in the crowd,
On the outside looking in.
No I was not doomed by fate.
I willingly chose this path.
If asked to choose again,
The path I would go down,
I would not say a single word.
We both know what I would choose.
A quick smile,
A simple wink,
As I begin to walk down,
The road of loneliness and isolation.
My Path
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There's a light at the end of the tunnel,
That beckons to me in my dreams.
Its faint cries,
Growing louder with every tick of the clock,
Now screaming in my ears.
Not much time passes,
Before the wailing must be stopped.
Finally acknowledging,
The all too familiar voice,
It suddenly becomes calm and soothing,
Somehow pleasing to listen to.
It urges so gently,
Yet somehow pushing,
Begging for me to follow it,
To the other end of the narrow shaft.
Rising from my bed,
Confusing dream with reality,
I begin to stumble on my way,
Jealously looking at those,
Who pass me by.
Secretly wishing,
That I too,
Were speeding along the path,
To the final destination.
Countless attempts to change my course,
Only lead to failure.
It seems as though,
Nothing can change the direction,
Of this tangent I have started on.
Head hanging low,
Spirits all but dead,
I trudge along,
My alternate path.
Envying all the others,
That take the main route.
Is this to be my fate?
An outcast of the world?
Time seems to stand still,
When you are on the outside looking in.
What is there left to do,
But accept this as my designated path,
Steadily working my way,
To the same place as the others.
Meet them at the end I will,
Smiling bright and proud.
For I will have made it through,
This awful journey,
On my own road.
Despite however many obstacles,
Were blocking the way.
I will be victorious.
Nothing,
Will stop me.
The only option is success.
Failure,
Is not a possible outcome.
Self Destruction
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The warmth begins to fade.
The light begins to dim.
This once vibrant flame,
Begins to dwindle into nothingness.
No fuel left to feed the hunger.
No one around to stoke the coals.
There is nothing that can save,
This weakened inferno.
As the winds of an oncoming storm kick up.
In the distance a shadow approaches,
And the sweet smell of moisture fills the air.
Drip by drip,
Little by little,
The ground begins to drink.
Praising the skies for the relief it brought.
Meanwhile,
The weak little fire begins to moan,
In agony,
As the last threads of life,
Are stripped away,
Without a single thing,
That it can do,
To evade the path of doom.
Suddenly all is quiet.
Acceptance begins to ring in the air.
The flame now realizes its dark end,
As a blanket of peace is laid over top.
“I have brought this on myself,”
The flame whispers.
“I am what I am,
And it has caused my own destruction.”
Minds
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As it approaches,
It appears to be,
The exact same as every other,
That has been encountered before.
Nothing out of the ordinary,
Nothing new to see.
However,
As it begins to get closer,
Even nearer now,
Where once something simple sat,
A behemoth of an object,
Rises from the dust.
At second glance,
It becomes confusingly obvious,
That the monstrous structure,
Is something,
One would not have predicted.
A labyrinth.
Only a single entrance,
Is all that stands out,
From the massive facade,
That hides,
And shadows,
What lies behind.
It is impossible to predict,
What is hiding inside.
Entering cautiously,
Curiosity getting the best.
Once inside,
There is no turning back.
Turn after turn,
Dead ends seeming to be around every corner.
Suddenly,
A startling sound,
Echoes through the chasms of stone.
The ground begins to shake,
Stone clashes together,
Ones worst nightmare becomes reality.
The maze is changing.
Altering its design.
Some things remain the same,
While most become different.
Now trapped inside the morphing trap,
There is only one option left,
One way to go.
Forward.
Welcome,
To the endless trap,
An eternity of confusion,
Of change,
The ever changing puzzle,
That is,
The mind.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Stars and Fish
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From the stars in the sky,
To the fish in the sea,
No one shining brighter than the rest.
Each one you come across,
More magnificent than the last.
Every one so different.
Yet so much alike.
How could one choose,
One over another?
Perhaps to them,
The one they see,
is high above the rest.
Not a single other one,
Can compare to the one,
That has ensnared their sight.
It begins to consume them,
Occupying their thoughts,
Their dreams,
Plaguing theirs senses.
They come to a point,
Where all the other fish,
Floating right in front of them,
Begin to disappear.
Regardless of their colorings,
Despite their beauty,
They go un-noticed.
As you focus on the one,
More intensely every moment,
Nothing can distract,
Your dedicated gaze
Slowly you being to creep,
Narrowing the gap,
Many things can happen,
You pray for only one.
Deep down inside you desperately hope,
This beautiful creature,
Will notice you too.
Slowly drawing nearer,
Trying frantically not to frighten it away.
Suddenly,
Without notice,
Gracefully it turns,
Now facing you,
It catches your gaze.
You sit stunned,
Trying to comprehend the beauty,
That is only feet away.
Your mind begins to race,
As it tries to figure out,
What is causing this creature,
To choose you,
Over all the rest.
What possible reason can there be,
To explain this decision?
I could not tell you,
But ponder this question I will.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
My Head
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No way out,
All escape routes blocked.
Cornered in an alley,
Without a single place to run.
Back against the wall,
What is one to do?
Hiding in the shadows,
Sinking lower to the floor,
Praying the attacker,
Will overlook this spot.
Not much room to move,
The air is growing thick,
It's only a matter of time,
It's time to act quick.
Bolting from this hiding spot,
racing towards certain doom,
Looking into evils eyes,
Moments before the crash.
One side is left standing,
The other in the dust,
Which side wins the battle?
Speculate,
We must.
The dusty air begins to thin,
Vision becoming clear,
Who shall be the victor,
Of this treacherous encounter?
Spectators waiting impatiently,
Eager to behold,
The outcome of the all out brawl,
That has begun to unfold.
Suddenly one notices,
And points out to the rest,
No side has won,
This awful clash,
Of opposing sides.
It has only just begun,
This classic test,
Which side will overcome?
Its good vs. evil,
Light and dark,
Which one will live to tell?
No one can say,
As each side grows stronger,
Every single day.
Each much choose,
There is no fence to sit,
Which side they choose,
The best that they see fit.
Only time will tell,
No one predicting when,
Not daring to even try.
There's a war waging inside my head,
If I take a day off,
I will surely die.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Sleep
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Here it comes,
Yet one more time.
The never-ending cycle,
That plagues my thoughts,
That haunts my memories.
It has begun.
Slowly it starts,
Taunting me,
As if to intentionally,
Cause as much torment,
As it possibly could.
Painstakingly slow,
It seems to creep up from behind,
Hoping to catch me by surprise.
Desperately trying to evade my pursuer,
Jumping behind bush and beam,
Hurtling over hedge and tree,
Frantically grasping for sanctuary.
Is there escape from this demon of mine?
Cries for help,
Fall on deaf ears.
I stand alone,
As my enemy,
Become best friends,
With the world.
Soon the inevitable and bitter ending,
Seems to creep into my sight.
It gains on me,
Steady and constant,
Never appearing to give way,
To my desperate blockades and detours.
My time is short.
My strength is failing.
The will to continue is leaving.
Hope begins to fade.
Gracefully and determined it approaches,
Completely enveloping my senses.
I have lost.
The battle is over.
Once again,
I have become a victim,
To my worst fear.
Sleep.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Worlds
It seems as though,
Our entire world,
Is built upon,
A set of building blocks.
With some unknown power,
Deciding to make things difficult,
By removing one of the pieces,
From underneath the unsuspecting victims.
One by one,
Row by row,
Although not all at once,
Over time the missing sections,
Begin to add up,
Until eventually,
Everything that we know and love,
Comes crashing down.
Speeding towards the floor,
At supersonic speeds,
Coming to an abrupt and numbing halt,
At the lowest point,
You can possibly go.
Left there standing,
All alone,
Expected to suddenly find the strength,
From the empty abyss,
To start putting back together,
All the scattered pieces.
Attempting to make everything,
Fit like it did before.
Slowly and steadily,
The tower moves upwards again,
Not fitting quite like it used to,
With many of the puzzle pieces,
Being damaged,
Some even lost forever.
But eventually,
We will build our world back up,
To where it used to be,
Appearing to onlookers,
As though nothing had ever happened.
But you know in the back of your mind,
That all is not well,
That your supportive structure,
And everything holding you up,
Has never been so fragile.
Where the slightest hint of wind,
Or nudge in the wrong direction,
Could send you toppling,
Right back down,
To where you just were.
Again expected,
To pick yourself right back up,
When all you want to do,
Is sit back,
And let the rest of the people,
Pass you by.
But you refuse to give up,
As you start placing the pieces together,
One more time.
Our entire world,
Is built upon,
A set of building blocks.
With some unknown power,
Deciding to make things difficult,
By removing one of the pieces,
From underneath the unsuspecting victims.
One by one,
Row by row,
Although not all at once,
Over time the missing sections,
Begin to add up,
Until eventually,
Everything that we know and love,
Comes crashing down.
Speeding towards the floor,
At supersonic speeds,
Coming to an abrupt and numbing halt,
At the lowest point,
You can possibly go.
Left there standing,
All alone,
Expected to suddenly find the strength,
From the empty abyss,
To start putting back together,
All the scattered pieces.
Attempting to make everything,
Fit like it did before.
Slowly and steadily,
The tower moves upwards again,
Not fitting quite like it used to,
With many of the puzzle pieces,
Being damaged,
Some even lost forever.
But eventually,
We will build our world back up,
To where it used to be,
Appearing to onlookers,
As though nothing had ever happened.
But you know in the back of your mind,
That all is not well,
That your supportive structure,
And everything holding you up,
Has never been so fragile.
Where the slightest hint of wind,
Or nudge in the wrong direction,
Could send you toppling,
Right back down,
To where you just were.
Again expected,
To pick yourself right back up,
When all you want to do,
Is sit back,
And let the rest of the people,
Pass you by.
But you refuse to give up,
As you start placing the pieces together,
One more time.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Roads
What lies ahead,
On the road of life?
This multi-lane freeway,
Moving faster than I can take.
Which exit leads me,
To the windy road,
That takes me to the destination,
I wish to reach?
How many pot holes,
Will line the streets which I travel?
Is there a number,
To count the amount of detours,
Standing in the path,
That I will take?
So much variety,
All leading to an alternate ending.
Which one,
Will lead me,
To my deepest desire?
How do I know,
That any of them,
Even contain it?
I can only wish,
To be fortunate enough,
For luck to be on my side.
So that this never ending road of life,
Will lead me,
To the thing I long for,
More than anything else.
No matter where the road may lead,
I hope and pray,
That you will be there by my side,
There at the end.
Cause without you sitting,
In the passenger seat,
It all seems,
Like such a waste.
On the road of life?
This multi-lane freeway,
Moving faster than I can take.
Which exit leads me,
To the windy road,
That takes me to the destination,
I wish to reach?
How many pot holes,
Will line the streets which I travel?
Is there a number,
To count the amount of detours,
Standing in the path,
That I will take?
So much variety,
All leading to an alternate ending.
Which one,
Will lead me,
To my deepest desire?
How do I know,
That any of them,
Even contain it?
I can only wish,
To be fortunate enough,
For luck to be on my side.
So that this never ending road of life,
Will lead me,
To the thing I long for,
More than anything else.
No matter where the road may lead,
I hope and pray,
That you will be there by my side,
There at the end.
Cause without you sitting,
In the passenger seat,
It all seems,
Like such a waste.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Images
Every time I see her face,
The memories go rushing by.
vivid images of times that have passed,
Thoughts both good and bad.
A bittersweet taste,
Fills my mouth.
My mind begins to wander,
As it relives,
The many wonderfull times,
As they rush past my eyes.
Slowly,
The thoughts start to wander,
And the smile begins to fade,
As to memories of sad times,
Have their turn,
To be relived.
Suddenly,
The brightness of the day,
Begins to falter,
Clouds seem to begin creeping,
Across the horizon.
A chill runs up your spine,
And the tears stream down your face,
As the depressing memories,
That were tucked,
In the furthest regions of the mind,
Steadily make their way,
Into the focus of your thoughts.
Your head begins to hang low,
And the very will to live,
Begins to seep away,
Out of your bones,
As the movie reel containing,
The saddest time of your life,
Continues to play,
Over and over,
Despite how hard to will,
For it to just simply,
Disappear.
But nothing seems to work.
Then moments before,
You give up all hope,
The begins to penetrate through the clouds,
The tears begin to dry,
As out of nowhere,
A feeling of comfort warms the soul,
A ghostly feeling,
Of a friendly hug,
Coming out of the shadows,
Pushes the sadness,
Back into the depths of the mind.
This begins,
The agonizingly slow,
Process of healing.
No possible way to measure,
Or even guess,
How long it will take.
Patience is the key,
Persistence is the goal.
Striving onward,
Praying,
For smooth waters ahead.
The memories go rushing by.
vivid images of times that have passed,
Thoughts both good and bad.
A bittersweet taste,
Fills my mouth.
My mind begins to wander,
As it relives,
The many wonderfull times,
As they rush past my eyes.
Slowly,
The thoughts start to wander,
And the smile begins to fade,
As to memories of sad times,
Have their turn,
To be relived.
Suddenly,
The brightness of the day,
Begins to falter,
Clouds seem to begin creeping,
Across the horizon.
A chill runs up your spine,
And the tears stream down your face,
As the depressing memories,
That were tucked,
In the furthest regions of the mind,
Steadily make their way,
Into the focus of your thoughts.
Your head begins to hang low,
And the very will to live,
Begins to seep away,
Out of your bones,
As the movie reel containing,
The saddest time of your life,
Continues to play,
Over and over,
Despite how hard to will,
For it to just simply,
Disappear.
But nothing seems to work.
Then moments before,
You give up all hope,
The begins to penetrate through the clouds,
The tears begin to dry,
As out of nowhere,
A feeling of comfort warms the soul,
A ghostly feeling,
Of a friendly hug,
Coming out of the shadows,
Pushes the sadness,
Back into the depths of the mind.
This begins,
The agonizingly slow,
Process of healing.
No possible way to measure,
Or even guess,
How long it will take.
Patience is the key,
Persistence is the goal.
Striving onward,
Praying,
For smooth waters ahead.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Trust
Betrayal,
Back Stab,
Deceit.
These are only,
A few things,
To describe,
The unmentionable treachery,
That is,
The misuse,
Of one of the most precious things,
We as people,
Have to give to others.
That is,
Our trust.
How should we react,
When we give a person our trust,
And they take it willingly,
Only,
To cut it up into pieces,
And abuse the gift they have been given.
Using it for selfish,
And greedy purposes.
Taking the sacred information,
Only to become two faced,
Turning around and spreading it onwards,
Sharing it with people,
Whose ears,
Were not meant to hear it.
Potentially causing a conflict,
That was never meant to take place.
But what happens,
When you decide to take the chance,
The gamble,
To put your trust in someone,
One more time?
Is there someone out there,
Who instead of betraying you,
And letting you down,
Makes the decision,
To take that special gift,
And cherish it,
Not wanting to do anything,
To jeopardize,
What they've been given.
However,
There may come a time,
When that person,
Either accidentally,
Or intentionally,
Breaks that bond.
How many chances can we give?
Is there a set number,
Of second chances,
we are allowed to give out?
Personally,
There are certain people,
I will never trust again.
And there are others,
Whom I will give as many redo's,
As it takes,
Because I care for them,
With all of my heart.
But that's just me.
Back Stab,
Deceit.
These are only,
A few things,
To describe,
The unmentionable treachery,
That is,
The misuse,
Of one of the most precious things,
We as people,
Have to give to others.
That is,
Our trust.
How should we react,
When we give a person our trust,
And they take it willingly,
Only,
To cut it up into pieces,
And abuse the gift they have been given.
Using it for selfish,
And greedy purposes.
Taking the sacred information,
Only to become two faced,
Turning around and spreading it onwards,
Sharing it with people,
Whose ears,
Were not meant to hear it.
Potentially causing a conflict,
That was never meant to take place.
But what happens,
When you decide to take the chance,
The gamble,
To put your trust in someone,
One more time?
Is there someone out there,
Who instead of betraying you,
And letting you down,
Makes the decision,
To take that special gift,
And cherish it,
Not wanting to do anything,
To jeopardize,
What they've been given.
However,
There may come a time,
When that person,
Either accidentally,
Or intentionally,
Breaks that bond.
How many chances can we give?
Is there a set number,
Of second chances,
we are allowed to give out?
Personally,
There are certain people,
I will never trust again.
And there are others,
Whom I will give as many redo's,
As it takes,
Because I care for them,
With all of my heart.
But that's just me.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Choices
Choices and consequences.
Cause and effect.
Right and wrong.
The never ending cycle,
That smothers our lives,
With pressure from our peers.
Every moment that we live,
We are making decisions,
Whether these choices,
Are the right ones,
Or the wrong ones,
Is open to interpretation.
What causes us,
To make the choices we do?
Do we do things,
For self benefit,
Or personal happiness?
Or do we make certain decisions,
For other people,
Only wanting them to be happy,
And sacrificing our own well-being.
Whether your actions,
Are based on your own motivations,
Or the hopes and dreams of another,
Being lived through us,
We choose and do what we do,
For a reason.
Now I cannot ell you,
What you should do.
But I will say this,
Whatever you decide to choose,
And those courses of action,
You act upon,
Do it,
So that you may be happy,
In the end.
Because if you aren't happy,
What is the point?
You are always in control,
Of yourself.
Use that simple truth,
To your advantage.
For you,
And you alone,
Control your actions.
We should live for ourselves,
Because it's our life.
Cause and effect.
Right and wrong.
The never ending cycle,
That smothers our lives,
With pressure from our peers.
Every moment that we live,
We are making decisions,
Whether these choices,
Are the right ones,
Or the wrong ones,
Is open to interpretation.
What causes us,
To make the choices we do?
Do we do things,
For self benefit,
Or personal happiness?
Or do we make certain decisions,
For other people,
Only wanting them to be happy,
And sacrificing our own well-being.
Whether your actions,
Are based on your own motivations,
Or the hopes and dreams of another,
Being lived through us,
We choose and do what we do,
For a reason.
Now I cannot ell you,
What you should do.
But I will say this,
Whatever you decide to choose,
And those courses of action,
You act upon,
Do it,
So that you may be happy,
In the end.
Because if you aren't happy,
What is the point?
You are always in control,
Of yourself.
Use that simple truth,
To your advantage.
For you,
And you alone,
Control your actions.
We should live for ourselves,
Because it's our life.
Life
Living life,
Going through the days,
Making choices,
Adapting to changes.
What is the purpose,
Of this limited time of mortality?
The answer to this question,
Depends,
On who you decide to ask.
To some,
It is to fulfill a list of requirements,
In order to gain something,
In the life after.
To others,
It is merely,
To survive,
For as long as possible.
Because for them,
Every minute is precious.
For it may be their last.
If you were to ask,
Another group of people,
They would reply,
Saying,
The purpose of life,
Is to rise up as far as you can,
On the totem pole of gain.
To gain as profit,
As possible,
Before the inevitable,
Finally catches up with them.
However,
If you were to ask,
As simple person,
Who is completely content,
With the life he has been given,
He would tell you,
That the purpose of life,
Is to be happy.
To take those simple things,
That make you smile,
And cherish them,
As if that was the last time,
You would ever see it,
Or experience it.
Grab hold of those things,
That make you feel alive,
And hold onto them,
As if merely letting go,
Would be then end of life,
As you know it.
For life is short,
Much shorter,
Than any of us,
Would like to admit.
We must use the time we are given,
As it is not much.
Live life to the fullest,
Because you never know,
What's just around the corner.
Going through the days,
Making choices,
Adapting to changes.
What is the purpose,
Of this limited time of mortality?
The answer to this question,
Depends,
On who you decide to ask.
To some,
It is to fulfill a list of requirements,
In order to gain something,
In the life after.
To others,
It is merely,
To survive,
For as long as possible.
Because for them,
Every minute is precious.
For it may be their last.
If you were to ask,
Another group of people,
They would reply,
Saying,
The purpose of life,
Is to rise up as far as you can,
On the totem pole of gain.
To gain as profit,
As possible,
Before the inevitable,
Finally catches up with them.
However,
If you were to ask,
As simple person,
Who is completely content,
With the life he has been given,
He would tell you,
That the purpose of life,
Is to be happy.
To take those simple things,
That make you smile,
And cherish them,
As if that was the last time,
You would ever see it,
Or experience it.
Grab hold of those things,
That make you feel alive,
And hold onto them,
As if merely letting go,
Would be then end of life,
As you know it.
For life is short,
Much shorter,
Than any of us,
Would like to admit.
We must use the time we are given,
As it is not much.
Live life to the fullest,
Because you never know,
What's just around the corner.
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Wounds
Wounds,
Injuries,
Scars,
What are these?
Are they merely imperfections,
Of the flesh,
Results of mistakes,
Of skin and bones
Mere memories and clouds,
Of a temporal pain and sadness.
Do these inflictions,
Even compare,
To the never fading,
Cuts and stabs,
That line our hearts and souls?
The never healing rips and tears,
Causing us to mourn and cry.
These wounds may never heal.
But,
They may also,
Never show.
We can hide them away,
Deep down inside,
Blocking the ever bleeding pores,
Of our hearts,
From the eyes of the world.
Not wanting people to see,
What is really beneath the surface.
Pretending that everything is ok,
When in fact,
You have never been cut this deep before.
Deep inside,
You secretly wish,
That someone will come along,
And actually notice,
The pool of blood,
Soaking deep into your shoes.
Concealing the hope,
That they could possibly,
In some magical way,
Make the pain go away.
Sew up the cuts,
Fill in the holes.
Whenever this person decides,
To come knocking on your door,
It won't be,
A moment too soon.
Injuries,
Scars,
What are these?
Are they merely imperfections,
Of the flesh,
Results of mistakes,
Of skin and bones
Mere memories and clouds,
Of a temporal pain and sadness.
Do these inflictions,
Even compare,
To the never fading,
Cuts and stabs,
That line our hearts and souls?
The never healing rips and tears,
Causing us to mourn and cry.
These wounds may never heal.
But,
They may also,
Never show.
We can hide them away,
Deep down inside,
Blocking the ever bleeding pores,
Of our hearts,
From the eyes of the world.
Not wanting people to see,
What is really beneath the surface.
Pretending that everything is ok,
When in fact,
You have never been cut this deep before.
Deep inside,
You secretly wish,
That someone will come along,
And actually notice,
The pool of blood,
Soaking deep into your shoes.
Concealing the hope,
That they could possibly,
In some magical way,
Make the pain go away.
Sew up the cuts,
Fill in the holes.
Whenever this person decides,
To come knocking on your door,
It won't be,
A moment too soon.
The Game
The cards are on the table,
The ball is in the air,
The game is still in session.
Its not quite over yet.
There is still time on the clock,
Time to make things right,
Although not much,
But just enough.
Because it is never too late,
To fix what was broken.
Sometimes,
A few words is all it takes.
Other times,
No amount of words,
Could possibly fix the damage,
That has been done.
But nevertheless,
Should be said.
Is there really a time,
Where it can be too late,
To try to make right,
The wrong?
Even if there is,
It never hurt,
To try.
The ball is in the air,
The game is still in session.
Its not quite over yet.
There is still time on the clock,
Time to make things right,
Although not much,
But just enough.
Because it is never too late,
To fix what was broken.
Sometimes,
A few words is all it takes.
Other times,
No amount of words,
Could possibly fix the damage,
That has been done.
But nevertheless,
Should be said.
Is there really a time,
Where it can be too late,
To try to make right,
The wrong?
Even if there is,
It never hurt,
To try.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Hearts
Some people wear their hearts on their sleeves,
Others hide theirs away,
Tucked down in the deepest,
Darkest,
Most isolated area,
So that no one,
May gain access to it.
What causes a person,
To want to keep others away,
From that most precious possession?
What is there to gain,
From denying others,
The chance to get close to you?
There is nothing but loneliness,
As a result of locking up your heart.
Alternatively,
We can open up the barricaded door,
Protection that fragile thing.
We can expose it to pain,
Put it in the way of danger.
Trust another to keep it,
Only to have them,
Toss it out of the second story window.
But,
By lowering our defenses,
Only ever so slightly,
We not only expose our hearts,
To pain,
But also to something,
Infinitely more powerful.
The experience,
Of happiness.
The power,
To complete the needed balance.
The light that drives away the dark.
The experiences,
That cause you,
To love being alive.
Causing you to be happy,
About the fact,
That you decided to get out of bed,
That morning.
A single moment in time,
Seems to make all the bad things,
That have ever happened,
Seem,
Completely meaningless.
Those moments of tears,
Disappear,
From the pool of memories,
That have accumulated,
Over the years.
Others hide theirs away,
Tucked down in the deepest,
Darkest,
Most isolated area,
So that no one,
May gain access to it.
What causes a person,
To want to keep others away,
From that most precious possession?
What is there to gain,
From denying others,
The chance to get close to you?
There is nothing but loneliness,
As a result of locking up your heart.
Alternatively,
We can open up the barricaded door,
Protection that fragile thing.
We can expose it to pain,
Put it in the way of danger.
Trust another to keep it,
Only to have them,
Toss it out of the second story window.
But,
By lowering our defenses,
Only ever so slightly,
We not only expose our hearts,
To pain,
But also to something,
Infinitely more powerful.
The experience,
Of happiness.
The power,
To complete the needed balance.
The light that drives away the dark.
The experiences,
That cause you,
To love being alive.
Causing you to be happy,
About the fact,
That you decided to get out of bed,
That morning.
A single moment in time,
Seems to make all the bad things,
That have ever happened,
Seem,
Completely meaningless.
Those moments of tears,
Disappear,
From the pool of memories,
That have accumulated,
Over the years.
My Life
They say,
That a person,
Can only live,
For a few minutes,
After their heart has stopped beating.
If that be the case,
I should not be living at this moment.
For my heart has not beat,
A single time,
Since that moment when I found,
The facade which was put into place,
To shield my eyes from the truth.
What I found out that fateful day,
Has had a greater impact,
On the emotional well-being of my soul,
Than any other single event.
The thought of future happiness,
Is now nothing but a joke.
As the very will to live,
Slowly escapes the cold cavity,
That once held what was my heart.
All that now remains,
Is a memory,
Of a time,
Where the now hollow hole,
Was filled with hopes,
And dreams,
And thoughts of happy things.
All that is left,
Is the bitter taste of truth.
The sour feeling of realization.
As the entire world seems to come to a halt.
Where you feel as if you are all alone,
In the middle of a crowd.
The agonizing feeling,
Of thinking,
That there is no longer,
Anyone who cares.
The feeling,
That no one will miss you,
If you suddenly disappeared.
At this moment in time,
There is no light at the end of the tunnel.
There is no second chance.
There is only one story to tell,
And it is sad as hell.
This,
Is the story,
Of my life.
That a person,
Can only live,
For a few minutes,
After their heart has stopped beating.
If that be the case,
I should not be living at this moment.
For my heart has not beat,
A single time,
Since that moment when I found,
The facade which was put into place,
To shield my eyes from the truth.
What I found out that fateful day,
Has had a greater impact,
On the emotional well-being of my soul,
Than any other single event.
The thought of future happiness,
Is now nothing but a joke.
As the very will to live,
Slowly escapes the cold cavity,
That once held what was my heart.
All that now remains,
Is a memory,
Of a time,
Where the now hollow hole,
Was filled with hopes,
And dreams,
And thoughts of happy things.
All that is left,
Is the bitter taste of truth.
The sour feeling of realization.
As the entire world seems to come to a halt.
Where you feel as if you are all alone,
In the middle of a crowd.
The agonizing feeling,
Of thinking,
That there is no longer,
Anyone who cares.
The feeling,
That no one will miss you,
If you suddenly disappeared.
At this moment in time,
There is no light at the end of the tunnel.
There is no second chance.
There is only one story to tell,
And it is sad as hell.
This,
Is the story,
Of my life.