The silent awakening, the morning texts,
A dreaded Monday, yet the feel of “okay”,
The early crank of the car, and we were on our way,
It was the start of a good day.

How did the laughter turn into sheer fear?
When did the joy vanish under pain?
Debris, Flashing lights, A choking smell,
All I remembered was the start of a good day.

Then the replay hit me like an airbag to the face,
The gutless fear engulfed me as the tears ran down my face.

A light;
That made all the difference.
For I followed til I heard the MICHAEL!
Then I saw the face of blinding lights coming on my way.

And that was it.
The hit had come
unrealized til the deflation showed me what was done,
A noise came from me
Blood curdling yell for no apparent reason,
A quick scan and everyone was safe,
And that was it.

For now the dream is an endless replay of the mind,
Labelled and forever remembered as “the start of a good day”.

How can you show that you care?
How do you show that your there?
By how can friendship be what we share-
When its from a distance that which we sit and stare?

But it is of that distance which my feet will choose to walk,
Until that day comes we just continue to talk.

That through both our care we will see,
For I'll help you back when you fall to your knee’s.
Because this friendship we share, it must be,
Its not “from a distance” that tears at what you mean to me.

O’ gracious mind, that stores the monster within,
The ill of soul feels that in life one can’t win,
O’ beaten heart, that does not tell praise from sin,
The lord would not have placed ‘insane’ in such men.

Thy inner head does burn with this gift inside of me,
The mental suffocation does help me feel so high,
They call me crazy?! Oh they know not what sets me free,
Its belief we grow to live, sadly we grow to die.

The sounds become outstanding, bringing leaks unto these ears.
The ink becomes overwhelming, hovering off the page.
The people become too much, making life a last resort.
And fire in my skull burns bright! I can’t stand this anymore!

Silence,
The lack of fight.
Peace,
The dim of light:

For I love all insanity that comes my way,
Because it makes life worth living each and everyday…

O’ Bountiful Mind,
Such a beautiful delight is the memory we store,
From childhood to now, fears to joyfulness,
Such a glorious creation, Gods masterpiece and more.

Yet I seem to – I mean – I stumble on the spot,
And – Ummm – Memory is something that can’t be bought.

O’ Internal Shrine,
We never fill up; instead our head stays an open door,
From that one first crush to that one first kiss,
Its wonder is a mystery down to the very core.

I have – I guess – I must have lost my train of thought,
For what I had in mind I seem to have forgot…

O’ Shakespeare and your beauty of sonnets,
Thou’s glorious works of art that **** thee.
Its strength grasp thy soul, shatter it to bits,
I just love how you try and ****** me.
Your words, they flow in such wonderful ways,
From you to the people, they ever flow.
Where doth thou run when seen the light of day?
Back to the cauldron from where thy once grew?
O’ thou’s attempts to be but such a bird
Yet stuck an ugly duck, ******* great awe.
You bring sight to the blind; to deaf, sounds are heard,
Death to the living; mutes left to gagging.
Thus I must credit your will and your time,
For like you, my life’s lost in this strict rhyme.

-Time-
Such an Underestimated element.
Setting People into place,
And placing no gaps in any life.

-The Fun-
It comes in waves, and as it pulls away,
You only wish you could ride with it.
Giving emotions that are expressed and held.

-The Mockingbird-
It landed on a window sill of mine,
Brought hope as I opened the glass to let it rest.
Leaving an open exit if it plans to fly away.

The time gets the better,
Bringing fun things to come.
But it seems only to dissipate,
When the mockingbird tries to rest again…

The fear comes in me,
The worry stays,
”What if I come home to an open window,
Empty sill?”

- Now I guess I know.

Have you ever fallen in snow?
What of being pushed
And not of anyone but those you trust and know.
Is it only a dream…

Music is what makes me,
People are what confuse me.
I can live loving friends,
Yet still need someone to confide in.

Have you ever questioned the common heart?
What not of love but the silhouette of like
That mixed emotions do hide in such mental rampart.
Is it only how it seems…

If people could see I reside in me,
A life yet to know and I'm fine being free.
A dream as it seems though what does it mean,
For a story untold held stitched at the seams.