I've always been a wanderer,
Exploring this world so full of wonder.
Never been good at sitting still,
So full of this energy that's set to spill.
Often I'll go out with friends,
And later I'll disappear,
Gone off the explore the hidden places that always lie near,
Only to return once alls been seen,
Rarely asked where I've been.
In the future maybe I can take this further,
Go off to places I've not seen before,
My life could be one long world tour.
Although it's not as easy as it sounds I'm sure.
Alas I have always been a wanderer,
And a wanderer I'll always be,
As there'll always be something new to see,
Lying behind an unopened door.
Who knows what I'd find as I wandered around the world?
A friend to stand by till the end.
The love of my life, my future wife?
Or perhaps these people I've already met,
And I simply haven't noticed yet.
Who knows what awaits them in the future?
A life of adventure would suit me for sure.
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 6:39 AM UTC
"The wise lament neither for the living, nor the dead"
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 10:40 AM UTC
Back to this daily grind,
Attempting to get this 'knowledge' into my mind,
What, in this, do they expect me to find?
Taught to regurgitate fact after fact, playing our part in this foolish act.
Just trying to finish one last year,
Don't want to falter when the ends so near.
But the purpose of this 'education' has never been clear.
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 11:05 AM UTC
Oh how the mighty and wise can fall,
No longer content with their future at all.
"Sure whats the point?" they may ask of us,
"I've lived my life now stop casuing a fuss."
"Leave me be,
I don't want you to see.
I'm in a bad way,
It's just not my day."
We love them and so we try to make them feel okay,
Want them to stay and share another day,
But they don't want to take up our time,
Thinking this is a most selfish crime.
We try to keep them occupied
Stop their thoughts of suicide.
But they will not be placated,
No not after how long they've waited.
The wise and old wish out of this fold.
Think themselves useless and a cause of needless stress.
We must do our best to support our eldest.
Try and keep their spirits up with all the time and all the love that we can muster up.
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 6:52 AM UTC
Tobacco smoke wafts through the air,
The only indication that you once sat there.
Of death and decay it does so smell,
This smell it makes me think of hell.
They say the odds are one in two,
I am really hoping the odds favor you.
But alas I know so many that roll these dice on their life,
And how, good friend, are you all supposed to be spared this strife?
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
Oh how I love fire,
It is the one thing which I will always admire.
What is it about this powerful reaction,
That gives it its beautiful attraction?
Is it the potential to wreck and destroy,
The power to unleash chaos and pain;
Is this why men fire so enjoy,
Will the fiery beast remove mankinds stain?
I don't know why I enjoy it so,
But I do love to stare into the depths of a fiery glow.
Fire is something I often desire.
The flames, they always take me higher.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 1:37 PM UTC
Sleep is my most dear friend,
It's what I always need in the end.
Sleep is not always easy to come by,
But its easy here with you beneath this moonlit sky.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 10:27 PM UTC
Love is a special, two way street,
On which one day some may place their feet.
To truly love someone you must understand,
Change from them you can never demand.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
My father has always been a mystery, to me,
I see him every day and yet I never hear him say,
A word about a different place, the place he came here from,
About his life before me I know not, I don't know where or how his life begun.
Was it filled with work and study,
Without a day to go out and play?
Or did he run, go out often and have fun?
Perhaps his life was tough from the moment it had begun.
All these questions I really want to ask,
But bringing these topics up with him will be a most arduous task.
I really want to know it all about this man I've loved since I was small,
I hope someday he learns to share and realizes that I really do care.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 9:11 AM UTC
Painted wings can't make a man fly,
Do not ask of me why.
These painted wings are treasured things,
A work of art, born of a near sisters heart.
I wish you knew but at least I know,
There's really no length to which I wouldn't go.
Don't ask of me how to create this beauty,
For I am just the model, not an artist so colossal.
Always climbing, going higher,
As your fear and pleasure fuel my fire.
Ask of me what I desire?
I fear to answer and so I climb higher.
These wings of hers, they bring me hope,
As we climb this ascending slope.
The paint begins to fade and crack,
I'm losing the wings put on my back.
The onlooker, just here to see,
She brings out the good in me.
These painted wings won't bring me things;
Oh how I love it when she sings.
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 4:07 AM UTC