The topography of my mind
Maps the beach at changing tide.

From low to high it's all washed clean
Footprints, castles and trails alike
Unetched slate of flat leveled sand
Grains aligned by blessed wave strike.

From high to low it's all exposed
Fragments, jetsam, seaweed entwined
Littered, scattered on shore amuck
The sting of empty shells combined.

Yes, the topography of my mind
Maps the beach at changing tide
From low to high and high to low
A gloriously exhausting ride.

Let us focus on forgiveness
Make it our word of the day
Whether it be of yourself or someone else
Sit back and watch what it creates

As it takes the heart of the hurting
Kneads and melds it into shape
You've never lived until you've learned to give
The bitter taste of bitterness away

Take hold of the hand of forgiveness
Leading you wherever it may
You will never go wrong with the path it is on
Where forgiveness is the best of all ways

If it wasn't for the pessimist
What would the optimist do
They'd have no earthly idea
What was needed to pull through

Or the gravity of the situation
And how to handle it best
Without the negative of the pessimist
What would fill the optimists head

Without the doom and gloom of the pessimist
Positive would be a lost cause
My best guess is that the optimist
Needs the pessimist after all

michael dreams
of things that he sees
in his mind
at any given time
pulls out paper and pen
jots down again and again
everything that michael dreams

michael rhymes
all that he finds
everyday
then gives it away
bringing such joy
like the first day of a new toy
that is why michael rhymes

michael flies
all of the time
sets himself free
without any wings
plotting a course in his mind
through his dreams and his rhymes
that is how michael flies

I often fill my pockets up
With all sorts of stuff
From breath mints to deodorant
When there's a need to freshen up

Along with a dime or two
For those important calls
When I need directions
For the times that I am lost

My favorite flavor of chewing gum
Double the pleasure, Double Mint
Which most times slides from the wrapper
Where I just kindly brush the lint

Undoubtedly as always
There's a few string clingers on
Which in wisdom I save for later
For that urgent urge to floss

One or two pet rocks
That along the road I found
I just put this part in
To give you something to think about

I sometimes put my hands in my pockets
Though there's barely any room
Still a hand sometimes need a rest
If it's got nothing to do

It's little wonder I fill them up
With all sorts of stuff  
Cause don't cha know when it comes to stuff
You can never have enough

Finally put down those bad habits
Upset that apple cart
Swore off all the things that I
Swore I'd never start

When you're out there playing young and dumb
Thinking you can handle it
That's when the devil comes along
With a mighty grip

Placing your feet to the fire
Serving up last meals
Grabbing your soul with a pair of pliers
Holding it to the grinding wheel

All the smoking and the drinking
Is not what it pretends to be
Lost time with its ambition  
And future guarantees

Other habits need not be mentioned
As this my mom may read
Suffice to say that those days
Were more than footloose and fancy free

Given it all up,  one by one
Every rotten slice
No more stuffing of the face
In the eating of that pie

As I'm back to clean and sober
Able once again to breathe
All of it is finally over
With that there's no more need

No more feet placed to the fire
Serving  up of the last meal
Satan can put away his pliers
As dust settles on the grinding wheel

Don't smile
Don't frown
Don't turn around
Don't make eye contact  

Don't wink
Don't blink
Don't even think
About where you are at

Don't say hey
Don't wave
Don't small talk make
Stare straight at the wall

Don't clear your throat
Call someone bro
Or make a joke
Of okay now please cough

You're a man
Wash your hands
Though that's not in the plan
Dry them on your pants

Walk to the door
As you ignore
All else but the floor
Don't even think of looking back