She was an umbrella -
When upright, she shed burden with ease
But when caught upside down, she held it all in

She was the raindrops
He, the space between them
Never to touch
Until they both hit the ground

We are not a number
Be it test or wage or scale
Ultimately it is only ourselves
That we can choose to fail

They're markings for others
And not indications of our worth
First of which we are given
At our time of birth

When, at last, comes the time
Our final, absolute rest
The second number we are given
At our time of death

We are not a number
Don't take life too fast
Its not about the dates
Its all about the dash

*1996-?

We're given a blank canvas to fill
With whatever colors and stains
And other things we happen to spill
A once white canvas, never too plain
It doesn't matter the paint you use
So long as you appreciate the time
And shades and in-between hues
Of the painting you will call, "Mine"

Is it still a prison if it has no sign?
Because I'm trapped in this mind of mine

I've got a mess of a mind as of late
Thoughts so loud, that I can't concentrate
They're behind my eyes and beneath my skin
So many now, both are wearing thin
But you don't know, for I don't show
The thoughts racing around below
Of all the noise they always make
I'll keep quiet for sanity's sake
You don't see, that in the course of a day
The loudest thoughts are those I never say

We remember not the long times passed,
But the days spent with it
Be it friend or stranger, we are a
Culmination of memories.
Walking dreams.