I escape the recesses of my mind,
But my throughts keep me in a bind.
The thoughts I resist,
While my mind insists.
Step by step, I dive deeper into the depths,
Where my secrets are kept.
You say, "release your mind."
And I ask, "with what time?"
For me, the experience, much like a casted fishing line, allure;
For you, I imagine, is more like a detour.
Or so I perceive...
But will you leave?
Left to grieve
Trapped with a mind to decieve.
What will I receive?
A brighter day I hope,
Or a moment where even I can gloat.
Little flames flicker in the sea of dark,
Shadows dance in the shape of sharks.
Nipping away at the light,
Only myself in sight.
"Open your eyes, it'll be alright."
A hand grips tight,
Giving the strength lacking from my own might.
My heart takes flight,
Down a path that feels right.

Death is inevitable and unforgiving.
Emotions just as unforgiving and unrelenting.
Regret and pain swell up,
A lump in your throat,
Swallowed to form the pit in your stomach.
Nights extend and days shorten with every passing thought.
If time had a hand, surely you'd hold it.
Pulling them back, begging-
pleading not to move forward.
Yet instead you're dragged along, Death only in the distance.

There she sat against a tree,
Lush green grass as far as the eye could see.
Vibrant, colorful flowers, fully bloomed at her feet,
The wind through the trees, "What a sound," she thought, her heart skipping a beat.
She lets the wind take her far away,
A new sight to be seen each day.
From the snowy mountain tops, down to the ocean floor,
Nature is what she truly adores.
To create and restore,
She is Mother Nature a nurturer at her  core.
Loving and gracious,
She can be quite tenacious.
There is to no extent to which she won’t go
To maintain nature’s flow.
Nature is her child, her special sense of joy.
In her element she isn’t coy,
Like a child with a toy,
Nature is her playground,
Everywhere she goes joy can be found.
Round and round she goes,
Where she goes, only the wind knows.

A dreamer,
afflicted with struggle,
unaware of the pain.
Survival is bleak,
yet unconsciously the fight continues.
Within lies the key to the future,
but how can one see the future when you can longer see yourself?

Paper man,
Walking by gracefully,
Flowing with the wind,
Uplifted by the breeze.
Even the most trained eye wouldn’t see his worn paper exterior,
The slight tears at his edges.
These are his marks.
The everlasting marks of being crumpled,
over and over again by the pressures of life.
Like an origami master,
He skillfully folds himself to adjust.
Fold after fold after fold,
He continues to shift and shape until the crumpled being he once was,
is no more.
Oh paper man,
Who walks by gracefully,
Who flows with the wind,
Who is uplifted by the breeze,
How many more times can you fold yourself until your now brittle paper rips apart?

Why do I wake up in the morning?
A question I ponder occasionally.
If not for the morning daze and slow turning gears within my brain,
I’d ponder it every morning.
Nonetheless, this question,
“Why do I wake up every morning?”
Stays on my mind.
If you’re reading this expecting some words of wisdom,
A pivotal string of words to set you on the right path,
Then I’m sorry,
You best keep searching.
Truth be told,
I have no clue why I wake up every morning.
Now, don’t misunderstand,
I’m not a man lacking a passion,
Lost in the world,
Or spiraling down into a hole of despair.
I’m simple a man that has come to a realization.
A realization that I’m walking down a path with no defined destination.
I wake up to prepare for work or school,
Trekking through a day of daydreaming and battling my inner vices within the confines of my mind.
Why do I do this?
Why bother?
What’s my motivation to continue with my days?
Seems I wake up every morning to question more of my reality.
Seems I wake up every morning to just keep walking down this limited and undefined path
Because truth be told,
I don’t know why I wake up in the morning.