I lie there on the grass on my back,sun bright

What a pretty beauty sky

The colours are nice and pretty beauty

See that there's a faint rainbow

A cloud in the shape of hands open,waiting to receive

Ants crawling on my legs

My nose running,head floating and twirling in a kaleidoscope of giddy happiness

My limbs paralyzed and a silly smile on my lips

And I'm thinking, well isn't this grand.

God is trying to tell me something and I'm below tripping because I'm high.

We sat in a circle

All together but still in our own little safe corners

Perfectly designed worlds meant to replace this one

Adjacent to me sat this girl

Arms and legs scarred,hiding them were futile,hair thin, face gaunt

Her face said it all before her low voice diffused into the room's atmosphere

Her past experiences,her mistakes.

She focused on those;the mistakes that shamed her.

I looked at her and suddenly wondered what was the purpose of me being there

The pessimistic board their seats on the past

The daring ride on the present express

The optimistic hover on anticipations of the future

There are the lost wanderers

Watching from the side as trains whiz by

Some jump on the tracks

Their legs severed,bleeding in agony

Living carcasses,waiting to be picked on

By troubles and emptiness encircling prey

Then there are the late comers who've missed their train

There's a light at the end of the tunnel

It ain't heaven but it sure is hope though.   

There are some hearts,  too small,  to carry all the pain

The hurt, too much to bare,  upon a fragile frame

So hard to face the light of day or find a place to hide

They can not bare to see themselves, afraid to come outside

                      I can hear you daddy

                      but I have let you down

Walking the streets,one  late evening

Taking in the sights and sounds,good and bad

Saw this man on a corner stump, sitting

Clothes tattered,skin dull

But his eyes,his eyes were what caught me

Bright,young for his age,all-seeing, wise

Plucking an old beat up guitar on his lap,a string missing

Humming,definitely not looking at me

Across the street,sat two lovers oblivious to the world

In the background, Grey formations that have once oozed and have dried.

I stood there listening to his song

Gift of a Mother
Love not like found in a sister or brother.
She knows when something is wrong;
when you are somewhere you don’t belong.
Your mother will worry, and always will.
Nothing can help that, not even a pill.
Your mother will always be there,
watching for things you should beware.
Your father does not have a clue,
of what your mother feels for you.

Fountain of Youth
I live vicariously through your youthful eyes.
Each thing you learn is a new exciting surprise.
With every bump and scrape,
I feel your pain each time you ache.
I was just as excited about your first kiss.
I felt the disappointment each time you swung and missed.
You are my fountain of youth.
I even kept your very first tooth.
Wanting your life to be better than the one I had.
Having enjoyable moments being your dad.
Again, I am young if only in my mind.
Your experences take me where my body leaves me behind.

Well all think that when someone says slow motion that it was like that from the start.. 

That it is always a good thing..

Well this simply is not true..

Things can be going very fast in our life like that world wind that just wont stop..

Going just as they should..

At a pace that we all know..

Possibly one that you have been a custom to since you were very young..

Then suddenly when things seem to be going so well..

Suddenly all the fear and confusion comes out..

So many misunderstanding..

They stop..

A past like hers is one that not many want to hear spoke of.. And she is afraid to share.. One that is filled with fear and pain.. Starting at such a young age  that someone put upon her..A pain that should of never been made.. She should not be alive to tell the story.. Some many times she should of instead died.. At different times she has wished that she had. Because of the things that she has been Thur that nobody should have to go Thur.. "They don't understand" what they did to her.. How these things will and have effected her all her life..

Poet’s Wish
Things that are recorded on these pages,
I wish to share throughout the ages.
My thoughts, experiences, and feelings,
or perhaps a problem from which I am dealing.
Interpret them through my perception,
knowing it is the truth with is no exception.
My thoughts I wish to pass through time.
I send my message with a rhyme.
Whether it is funny, insightful, or sad,
these are my life experiences, the good and bad.
Enjoy them as you read,
I hope my words have planted a seed.
Read them and grow,