Here's to you, Here's to me
May us all drink two, maybe three

Here's to beer, Here's to wine
Long as your here, we should all be fine

When the rest the world is fast asleep
his mind seems to find it's peak.
Sure, he dreams but not like others.
He tugs his sheets and rolls his covers.
His eyes stay shut, the clock still ticks
The sun will dawn but not his fix.

Five hundred nights we shared this room
You still crack the blinds to watch the moon

No dogs allowed has been long overruled
You always felt that was just a bit cruel

Despite the hair, dirt, and drool
You welcome the new fur family rule

No more fussing with my sloppy side
Now you tidy the sheets in half the time

The center of the mattress is just as fine
Though you still refuse to cross that line

You still sleep on your side of the bed
Yet, Five hundred nights since I've been dead

I’ve seen mountains and rivers just like this,
but no memories more fond than when we kiss.

Wet nose, four paws, and a wagging tail
follow right beside me on an uncharted trail.
We're exploring, but just what for?
National treasure or maybe folklore?
He doesn't know and neither do I.
On a day like this we don't need to ask why.
I stop for a break and he looks right at me.
"C'mon Dev. Let's make it snappy."
I can't disappoint those big brown eyes.
He never complains, frowns, or tells lies.
His only intention is to insure I'm happy.
So I stand back up and give him a patting.
We march on in search of who knows.
Through the highest highs and the lowest lows,
There is always an adventure just around the bend.
He's not only a puppy - he's my hairy best friend.

Treat the truth like a rubber-band.
I’ll treat a lie like super-glue.
Maybe then you’ll understand
exactly how I think of you.

When the moon finally meets it's ceiling
Ahh, I wish I could describe the feeling

The countryside gives me a terrific peak
Early sun illuminates an anacamptic creek

The cricket's intuition ends their rhythmic chirp
I can see the dew glisten on the grass and the dirt

All silence - besides the wind and the bluejay
They spin through the sky for a game the two play

Warm waves of air push over the hills
Goosebumps ensue but I welcome the chills

This is a moment that an artist might draw
but he simply can't because he's part of it all

This is a setting that our memories reluctantly dilute
Though recollection of chores are crisp and acute

Try as I may - I can not pocket this instant
For when the day emerges it all becomes distant

Some time is spent for school
Some time is spent for work
Sometimes you become a tool
Sometimes you'll earn a perk
You might trade your hours for cash
You could swap a month for more
Each time you might complete a task
Your wallet could grow galore

Go buy yourself a gift worth wanting
Absence of wealth could be daunting
but steady goes the time for cash
and that lack of which - does not last
You can always earn the money back
But spending time is a one-way track.

Dear Friend,
If you find your self passing by
And your not crunched for time
Please feel free to stop on by
And no matter how apart we move
Our past has worn a welcomed groove
Our lives have bowed but still not split
I'm sure we'll roll right into that fit
It's been too long since we shared some laughs
Keep me in mind if we just might cross paths

I listen to the wind blow
But I do not watch for I do not know
Because of fright I do not look
I just continue to read my book
The strong howls that I hear
Seem to strike up too much fear
For it to be just a gust of air
Why do I feel such a great scare?
Ever so often the moon peeks
To show the little light I seek
I dare to glance out the window
Only to see the basic I did know
But take another look again
And there I see a chilling friend
I quickly run to lock the door
But I must glance just once more
Expectant to see the creepy stranger
Nothings there just my deepest anger
My eyes I use as such a sturdy tool
Seem to do nothing but make me a fool
I must suffer a sleepy head
So I turn back to go to bed
Than before I know it
I am dead

While yes, I have a résumé
It does no justice describing mé

So I'll leave this here for all to see
All I ask is please hire me

I'm great with sales
and communication
I can create tales
with no hesitation

Been fixing PCs since '99
Right after I broke all of mine

I don't do drugs
I don't cause fights
I won't give shrugs
to new insights

I can Photoshop best selling ads
and tell corny jokes just like most dads

I write HTML
and CSS
I can kinda spell
At least try my best

Started my first business in 5th grade
Profiting from the paper airplane trade

I'm a fast learner,
a problem solver,
a trust earner,
an idea causer,
a spreadsheet slayer,
a real team player

While I'm no photography guru
I've actually had a paid gig or two

Dove into video editing
way back when MySpace was a thing

Oh yeah. Plus I'm proficient with Microsoft Office.

That distant memory - a used balloon that has already served it's purpose

Unable to soar pronounced as it once were

Only to bobble from my path deflated and regrettably forgotten

Sure, some are thin and flexible; others may be on the thicker side but still great for cuddling. I prefer that my head be nestled firmly, so I tend to stay away from those that'd been 'worn in.'
I might sleep with quite a few but there's only one I couldn't live without.
No matter what, It's important you find the one that you are the most comfortable with.

A great pillow is hard to come by.

Some like it hot
Some like it cold
Most move to Florida
When they're 60 years old.

The boogie man is real
But he's not behind your closet door
The boogie man is real
But he doesn't hide in shadows anymore
The boogie man is real
But he's not beneath your bed
The boogie man is real
But he's only in your head

We lay. I stare...
as if I asked a question.
She answers with a smile...
like she knew my intention.

This is something new.
Something so unique.
Right then I should've knew..
Here's one I need to keep.

Still silent as a mime...
We lay. I stare
At who I now call mine.

I once drew a dinosaur scene on my grandparent's wall.

T-rex and long necks over 30 feet tall.

My raptor looked lonely so I thought I'd draw double.

"Wow. You're going to be in so much trouble."

My sister's comment came with such great surprise.

She didn't stop to see the detail in the Triceratop's eyes.

No compliments or critiques, she just walked on by.

She returned with a smirk and someone by her side.

My feeling of joy was replaced with pure dread.

Like the crayon I had dropped, my face, pure red.

Grandpa picked up the blood colored cylinder

He than showed me how add our family signature.

My grandpa would jest, as I nearly **** my long-johns: 

"You’re never too old to draw with crayons."