Dropping hints like a trail of crumbs -leading to my demise
Life is full of terrible surprise

Love is a blindfold
Now’s not the time to be bold

Shattered glass pathways to take you there
In the end only you will care

Man made marvels reach to the sky
In a futile plea – we don’t want to die

Truth has so many interpretations
Varied though in all nations

Carry the weight to the top of the stair
How much more can one mortal man bare

No one sees the light
No one knows what is right

The path is hard and winding
In the end you’ll shed your binding

(written a while ago, just now posting)

Broken down and in the crowd, I begin to scream out loud. No one sees me, no one hears me – as they all push forward going the other direction. I was trampled and defeated as I began to doubt myself, “who am I to be different, I should be more like them.” A voice called to me and quietly whispered, “come now dear boy you know this isn’t right.” Looking back and forth and up and down I could not distinguish just where the call came from. Being pressed forward in the direction that everyone was going and I wanted no part in – I fell to my feet and everyone went past. When out of the shadows came the man with the voice. Then reaching to me he said, “I am the poet that captures your imagination and gently pulls at your heart.” It was then i knew that this too would be my fate. I will write the words that no one knows. He stepped back and vanished and it all was clear, this man was me. I will write the words that capture the crowd’s imagination and pull gently at their hearts.

Where there’s a will there’s a way
So I hear the legends say
Live for today and dream for tomorrow
This is how we’ll escape sorrow
Hand and hand and heart in heart
All creating beautiful art
Intentions run free
And everyone can see
How misguided we really are
Gazing at a shining star
Mistakes are made by everyone
Together we exist under the sun
Hope and love and happiness
Fear and hate and loneliness
Life is full of highs and lows
Never knowing there the road goes
Put your whole heart into something
All to break and then have nothing
How can one avoid catastrophe
Imminent pain looming clear to see
Rest your weary head
In the end we’ll all be dead
Life is a cycle sometimes it’s great
But then it can be vicious and filled with hate
Woe to the ones who can see this all
Getting past themselves and looking over the wall
Don’t give in – not just yet
There’s one last beautiful sun set
Off on the horizon it shimmers with love
As you’re carried to rest on the back of a dove
Close you eyes and be content
There is nothing here to resent

Busy, busy little boy; gathering and hoarding card board boxes and other seemingly arbitrary components. His mother inquired, “Just what are you doing?” – To which he responded, “Building wings so I can fly.” His mother looked down upon her son with the collection off odd items and frowned while she told him, “Dear boy you cannot fly with makeshift wings of cardboard and glue!” The boy ignored her and continued his work, carefully cutting and gluing. Each piece belonged to the puzzle which became more and more evident as it all came together. He tied the wings gently onto his back and around his arms with determination in his eyes. Walking briskly to the large embankment, breathing deeply he looked down. He said, “I will show them all just what you can accomplish by following your dreams!” At which point he jumped down the vertical slope, falling rapidly towards the ground he was not frightened not even a little. Suddenly an enormous surge of wind blew beneath him and carried him gently to the ground, as his feet touched down his mother came out running. She held him close and said, “You’re so lucky you’re alive.” The boy hugged his mother with his makeshift cardboard wings and said, “No mom, anything is possible; anything at all.”

Broken down in dark corridors walking into infinity, uncertain of what’s to come – he’s lived this way since the day it all became to heavy to carry. Whispering faintly only things he knows, speaking in tongues to all those who hear. Routine is broken when he finds the light and suddenly he is inspired. Vitality courses through his body with renewed hope and faith, as he passes out the exit to venture into the day. He finally understood, if not her than who? The roads he walked to get him there could not have been reached by mistake. He finally knew the answers to the questions he asked himself, “I can live without her”; echoed in the recesses of his mind followed by; “but I do not wish to see where I will go without her by my side”. His eyes shined and his heart led the way, standing before her he’d build up the courage to say, “if not you than who? And if not now then when? If this was all by chance why am I here before you?” Tears gently forged a path down her beautiful face as she sought comfort deep within his arms, he spoke once more and soft was his tone forgiving was his manner, “We both have made mistakes before but this is our beginning, from here the road extends in infinite directions.”