“Every moment waking or sleeping/dreaming is a poem.
Sadly there aren't enough moments to write them all.”

back in the day,
(like 5 minutes ago)
I awoke,
and that miracle is

poem enough!
~~~~
the house is overflowing
with floral gifts,
orange roses, scented lilacs,
pink peonies,
and that friend, is

poem enough!

Sunday brings Birthdays,
One is 11, the other 7,
and I must change ~
my passwords will
require-updating,
and that friend, is

poem enough!

And you, dear poet,
friend of many years,
have given me so many
inspirations, birthed within
us words,
so oft, and so well,
that your pithy observations,
manufacture time,
add minutes to lifetimes,
and dearth
not a word,
to be associated with us!

Us,
as in always,
that my friend, is
just
ever a

poem enough!

Shamelessly flaunting a "good life" but never own it
They're only snapshots of good times and staged moments
You've only come across carefully selected, rookie opponents
Never felt how hard struggle hits
But...
What about when the floor drops out and a new rock bottom is found?
What about when the relentless doubt is the only thing registering as sound?
It's a generic cliche but a legitimate thing to say,
Who are you when judgment isn't around?
Do you explode in secrecy if to tightly wound?
Do you trust what stops the breakdown from happening in front of a crowd?
When you can't distinguish between right and wrong, when up seems down
When "elementary my dear Watson" proves too profound
When inner thoughts are unbound
When your own mind releases the hellhound
When you lose the comfort and security of solid ground
Control and reason give way to confusion and treason and all you can do is lie and say "change is inbound"
Would exposing the real you leave those closest to you confound?
See,
They say there's two sides to every story
I believe the same is true for every personality,
So I'm just asking around

©2024