When turning back is impossible
  the crossed bridge had broken down
  you are left alone to your resources
  and standing on shaky ground-

the horizon is dim and misty
tortuous and rough is the path
bitter winds are buffeting your face
testing your every courage and trust--

this is the moment
that will determine your fate
it's the fight to survive or fall
an encounter you'll never forget.

Night descends with its shadows
with the forces of a fiery foe
it will be  long hours of a bitter struggle
will you emerge victorious upon the morrow?

I do my best

but am always aware

I might be far behind

all the rest


but life's a democracy

I'll have my small and gentle say:

we are each a part of society

none can force us to walk away

We are but sand upon the waves,
sliding slowly until the night arrives.
But every step we take together
leaves footprints that can live for centuries.

Today, I
put a full stop
at the end
of an on-going
poem,

the sad part was
that I thought it will
bleed beyond it,

but all it asked for
as a light mentioning
in pages,

I had to refuse
so I added another
full-stop..

But what if I'm small?
What if I'm slow?
What if I'm not --- rolling in dough?

What if I'm fat?
What if I'm shy?
What if I don't know-- how to say goodbye?

What if I'm sick? Sick as a dog...
What if I'm about as productive as a lump on a log?

What if I care? but only about me?
Even though it doesn't show externally...

What can I do?
What can I say?
How the hell, will I be okay?