An ice capade of fireworks
one life's just like the other
once complete
they cut the cord
then hand you to your mother
.
gather now
a life that's ending
protect the stillness
a wind goes rending

one lonely star
will fade forever
as words inside
my heart untether
.
REMEMBER,
there is only one sky
under which
we all must die

colors of that night turn red
now we only trust the dead

when witnessing
these fallen notions,
(means everything)
we ride the oceans.
.
I'm happy to
just sit alone
With sandy beaches
as my throne
and largely realize
how small my breath
as life expires
these bones of death
.
the moon's reflections
cease being caught
poetic words
may bleed in thought
survival ends
but once per life
stopping any useless strife
.
what will your HEADSTONE finally say?
.
I want mine to read...
⚓ANCHORS AWEIGH⚓

Alone;
among millions.
In a city of parks and pavilions.

People rushing here and there,
None of who will see my stare.
I may as well be off the grid
accused of things I never did.

Awareness grows as I adapt
to not again become entrapped...
...by lying scheming evil folks
who only laugh at their own jokes.

How alone;
could one man be?
I do not know;
they don't ask me.

Homeless now;
without a roof.
Wishing only;
for the truth.

So while you are rushing;
all about,
please listen to me
scream and shout
so silently without a care
I welcome you to this nightmare.

One man's worthless-
Is another man's life.
One man's backstab-
is the other man's knife.
.
One man's thoughts-
could be stolen ideas.
One man's courage-
could be shrouded in fears.
.
One man's loyalty-
is another man's 'heap'.
One man's discard,
is another man's keep.
.
One man's hero,
could be rooted in stress
One man's 'facts'-
are another man's guess.
.
Ones in-experience-
is another ones youth.
One man's blasphemy-
is the other man's truth.
.
One man's empathy-
could be, 'just for show'.
One man footprints-
could be where to go.
.
Or not!

.
I am my own worst enemy.
Thank God there are not ten of me.
While breathing Helium this ain't no joke.
When all the Oxygen's gone up in smoke.
.
I feel as if I'm stuck in place.
But dream of being out in space.
I'd gladly trade this broken heart,
for the finer looking - working parts.
.
On the edge of breaking through.
But stuck here peeking at that view.
So POINT ME IN THE WRITE DIRECTION
where printed word needs no election.
.
No sounds will let you hear the words
that corner cattle into herds
of animals with frightened stares
where Helium brings on nightmares.
.
Some may want their ten of self.
I've not the mind to share my wealth.
So POINT ME IN THE WRITE DIRECTION
to fight this broken heart infection