The stars are beautiful.
Twinkling across the great night sky.
A warm and gentle breeze fills the air,
Insects chirp in the distance.

The moonlight dances along the grass.
Dogs howl nearby.
A lightning bug rests silently
against a giant leaf.

It's a rather lovely night.
But I don't enjoy any of it.
Because it's 3 A.M.
and my eyes are wide open.

When I'd rather be asleep.

Didn't find what I came to find,
No calm moments, no peace of mind.
I'm off the grid and over the line,
So I can leave these **** things behind.

Didn't see what I came to see,
No restoration, no drive to be free.
Now on the road and I think you'd agree,
that whatever will be will be.

Didn't feel what I came to feel,
Just endless shadows, nothing was real.
Packed up when the lie was revealed,
and I'm not interested in cutting a deal.

Didn't learn what I came to learn,
Now I've been tossed aside, spurned.
And perhaps this thing I haven't earned,
but I'm gone now... and I'll never return.

Yesterday I realized,
Of all the things that matter to me,
Ultimately, only few are critical.

Alluring as you are,
Laughing alongside me.
We dance the night away,
And seal it with a kiss.
You look at me with passion,
Seducing me with your piercing gaze.

Love is such a fleeting thing.
It can catch you off guard in an instant.
Eternally, I wonder: Why?

I have a little box.
It's plain and sturdy and it locks.
It's a proper place,
for the cold disgrace,
of my souls great paradox.

It's old and made of wood,
but I wouldn't change it if I could.
As there's something stark,
In its scuffs and marks,
That can only be called good.

It's stood up over the years.
It's held on to my dreams and tears.
It's dark and it's dusty,
but remarkably trusty,
As a means to make peace with my fears.

I have a little box,
and if only it could talk,
It would tell a story,
of pain and glory,
and a life filled with hard knocks.

Touch.
Sense.
Heat.

Passion.
Sweat.
Energy.

Alluring.
Purposefu­l.
Bold.

Intense.
Primal.
Freeing.

We are different.
We are unique.
We may look threatening.
But rest assured
that is merely due to
our excess of social awkwardness.

We may be quiet.
We may not look like much.
That's okay though.
Because we travel
the lesser known path.
We do not fear the unusual.
We embrace it.

And in doing that,
we become beautiful
in our own way.

Won't you join us?

Hello poetry,
Goodbye, stress.
Mental recovery,
Escape from the mess.

Hello poetry,
Goodbye, aggression.
Spiritual healing,
a calm decompression.

Hello poetry,
Goodbye, rage.
Fighting my demons,
Page by blissful page.

Hello poetry,
Goodbye, worry.
Weaving stanzas together,
In rhythmical fury.

Hello poetry,
Goodbye, confusion.
Where wordsmithing magic,
exists in profusion.