The purpose of this day
Will be to own each second
As if it will never come again

For the time is now

Tomorrows clocks has stopped
Yesterdays clocks erased
Today's clocks are still moving

For the time is now

Do not let the ticks slip away
Tuck them into your present
Take a deep breathe

For the time is now

To write food in the stomach
Of every hungry child.

To spell war as peace,
Metaphorize flowers into the barrel

Of every gun on Earth.
The poet has responsibilities

Beyond those of mothers,
Of kings and presidents.

I refuse to give up hope;  
This could be a poem world.

Come on, write your worst piece
Of literature.

Even misprints may give other
Meanings to a word,

Write me a green sky, blue dirt,
Trees the colour of air.

Sometimes the best poets
Have the least to say,

So keep writing, write until your
Fingers fall asleep.

Write until you havent slept
For weeks in search of that word,

That one right word,
Then rest on a notebook pillow

And dream the world right.
Write the world right.

There is no such thing as
Wasted poetry.

Steps to taking the easy way out

1. Take the bullets out of the gun. Leaving your family is harder than one thinks.

2. Love your self. For some days the hate will have ****** dammed into your sub conscious, convincing you of your futile existence.

3. When hanging yourself, forget how to tie knots. Loosen your pain. Use the rope to anchor yourself, stand your ground.

4. Repeat steps 1-3. These situations will occur again. Don't be afraid to memorize your worth.

5. Keep the medicine cabinet closed. There are demons behind those double doors that want to dissect you.

6. Breathe.

7. Stop running. This isn't a marathon.

8. Take the bullets back out of the gun, you are not in season and so refuse target practice.

9. Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat step 9 until enlightenment occurs.