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When I think of life,
I see an empty canvas ready to be painted upon,
or open blank pages that are waiting to be written on.
A baby is born, their first words in a book say;
"where am I?"
"what is this world"
"this is so cool"
or some babies have an anxiety
"bring me back into mothers womb?"
"I' am scared, what is this?"
But as you say, they do not know how to speak our language, maybe not by tongue but in their little cubicle minds...they have a language we once understood then only time could tell....
When I think of life,
I see empty pages and canvases waiting to be spilled onto,
but some art dusty and rusty, gone through 0-100 and have no space left but to die and leave it to the rest, because all those pages have been fulfilled.
Life carries on, into the next barrier of a woman's womb...and that is truly where the first page starts, or the first speck of paint draws...into the ****** of a fruitful woman most babies will call their mother.
Life and death
As I grow older I want to look back on the good times I've had, but would it be weird if I also said the bad?
Because without the bad times, there couldn't possibly be any good times?
Footsteps on stones, gravel and bones,
I want a memory to last a life time that surpasses me beyond the stage of deaths door steps.
Where will I go, where will you go, when this life is over?
Every morning when my eyes open, my nostrils breathe the dusty particles of my dusty bedroom floor...but the comfort is within, knowing to be here.
Time's stand still, but not for long when you're half a century gone.
It's not a phase,
Yes, it's a dream,
But one that came to my reality...
It's not just a dream,
yet a life style that I will always remember.
I have been a day dreamer since a youngling,
and will always continue to do so throughout my living days.
happiness comes through dreams,
and when you believe in those dreams
you can really see
your true
reality.
Nearly 5 AM in the Morning...
and I hate the night, but love it's true colors of darkness within a light so surreal you can truly feel.

The moon gather's within the stars as company to shine you.
Sometimes the clouds will cover the moon, like a blanket as he lays his head to rest, that's why he's called the man on the moon, not for the person who claims to have walked it, but for the face engraved into the bright shadows and creviced surfaces surrounding the molded, circular not so perfect Moon.

Thank you Moon for keeping us company...
But why do I hate the night, because your time goes faster than day. When your lover is with you and it's time to say goodnight, those are the times I despite.

The beauty of the night, is very real and wish...sometimes...could be longer. The only moment where I get to feel free.
Now is time for me to try and sleep, only if I can..
some nights, my thoughts race like a mustang in the distance of a field of golden wheat grass.
So I come here, to vent out...to only read my poems back at myself.
I will try to sleep.
Goodnight.
Some days I see myself outbound like an 80's movie...
living life day by day, wondering what lays ahead of the play.
I love life, because of the good and bad, but off course, bad things can't cut it, but we have to get what's bad to get the greater things in life.

No, no silly, i' am not talking about politics, or the crap happening right now...but the adventures in our personal lives that we go through every single day.

Being with you tonight was like two fishes who swam together in lovers hearts, synchronized in nostalgia.
When we lock eyes, emotions spur into greatness.

You held my hand as we walked underneath the starry night, so quiet and dark, playing hide and seek around the truck parked in the front yard, and as i looked back at you, we swung a hug in each other's warm arms along with a never forgotten kiss.

Your kisses, one by one, are always cherished and never forgotten...also when you're leaving to go home, i take a photograph of your lips in my mind, how they feel pressed against mine.

As I walk underneath the pear tree nd lights flashing underneath from the garden below shining unto my minty laced robe of satin, catching your eyes once again on mine in a new pictured memoir.

I love nostalgia, who doesn't?
it helps you feel like you belong...
when no one else is there to help sing your song.

I have been a day dreamer since a youngling, and will always
continue to do so throughout my living days.
happiness comes through dreams,
and when you believe in those dreams
you can really see
your true
reality.
Hey you, yes you...
I'm living life in my own ******* head...
Times of change...dreams are running,
everyone's screaming for something real.
Why don't you come around,
speak with me a lil and see the words in my mind....
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