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Michael Jul 25
It comes in many flavors.
Some sweet as honey
Many taste bitter
Or even sour
Therefore none are the same.

Variety creates beauty
Although, that beauty is unusual
Unusual is different
Difference creates the non-normal
Ultimately, non-normal is unique

I’ve once tasted a flavor
It cost quite a bit of money
The taste, heavy like an anchor
A taste I had to scour
Not as sweet as it claimed

I moved onto another candy
The flavor was dull
Almost absent
I craved a sweetness that was ample
Not one that is bleak

I even tested a flavor that was popular
A bit too strong for my palate
Something a bit too artificial
I guess not the right candy for me
Something more genuine is worth a try

All these different essences,
Yet none can satisfy
All these flavors,
Yet they all taste the same
It must be my taste that is awry

I put my anger towards the Shop Owner
He assured me, the right flavor is fate
Something sweeter than an angel
A flavor deeper than the sea
Even one lick for it is enough to die

There it was, in my presence
Left on the floor to lie
Left crushed from anger
Leaving such candy would be a shame
Wrapper damaged, yet still tied

No patience applied from previous owner
I unwrapped the candy left in freight
It didn’t require any muscle
Just something more friendly
A taste, enough to make me cry

The sweetest soul I could ever imagine
Blended with the perfect amount of bitterness
With the right touch of ****,
Created a sensation beyond rare
A flavor that’s solitary

A crushed sweet that carried burden,
Yet still convey such happiness
A flavor that pierces the heart
To which no other candy can compare
Just the right flavor for my palate to carry
Another story with structure and rhyme. What does the candy mean to you? To me, in its simplest form, Love. Everyone’s Love is different, and not every Love is right for everyone. So we live in this candy shop trying  finding the right Candy to be happy. I’m crazy huh?
Michael Jul 24
Run
Do you see the goal?
It somehow physically manifested itself
What will you do?
You can walk to it, give up, or run
Run until your lungs concave
Till your blood is boiling red
Till your muscles burn through your skin

Run until you are whole
Take it from someone like myself
The things I’ve been through
From someone who’s never won
It’s never to late to save
All those times I should be dead
But the race is about to begin

Don’t put that dream on hold
It won’t always be there
Time to see what you’re made of
It’s not a measure of skill
Or if it’s even your forte
It’s a matter of potential
It’s a sum of endurance and will

Your mind will try to fold
Your lungs will run out of air
Or the hate that came thereof
Your warm blood may spill
Even your own thoughts will betray
Your bones will feel fragile
All that matters is you don’t sit still

The objective isn’t even to finish
It’s not over if you can’t reach the end
You just need to try your best
You won’t forgive yourself otherwise
Life isn’t only about reaching the finish line
Life is about small wins
Proving you ‘can’ along the way

Chase those dreams you cherish
Don’t run alone, run with a friend
Every life is blessed
Now run before your Fire dies
Failure is a part of life, it’s not a crime
The strength to run is within
Don’t listen to me, hear what your heart has to say...
What do you think?
Michael Jul 23
Don’t confuse the two
Happiness and Love.
They usually go together
Hand-in-hand,
But they are not the same.

I can Love and still be miserable
I can be Happy and not Love
Ultimately,
Find someone who gives you both.
And you’re set
Now They can’t use you.
More like an unexpected surprise of advice. What do you think?
Michael Jul 22
I lost my sense of direction.
My poles had shifted,
Looking for any type of beacon.
I am no longer grounded
I pray I find my way back.
It was always there for me
It kept me on the right track
All those times I couldn’t see
When I was lost, I was found.  
It’s not the same without it
Now I can’t find my Campground
Only thing left to do is sit...

I don’t know what to do
It’s been broken for some time
I haven’t got a clue.
There’s no more Rocks left to climb
I see the darkness fall,
It leaves me ice-cold
In this giant forest I feel small.
I’m exposed, anything can unfold
No Fire to keep me warm
These nights feel endless
No protection against a Storm
My Tent is broken, seamless.

Like a captain with no crewmen.
I travel through these woods aimless
This pressure is a heavy burden
I run and run till I’m breathless
Lungs and body are beaten.
All I see is darkness
In this darkness I feel hidden
A sensation of nothing, numbness
All my hope is barren
All I am is faithless
There’s only one name on my mind...
I reach into my pocket, hold it tightly, I need you, my Compass
The Campground represents home, Rocks representing the obstacles of life. Fire is love, and the Tent is heart. The forest itself is death, lost, lonely, and afraid. The most pivotal aspect is the Compass, always keeping people grounded, in this case a person. Their name rhymes with the structure of the passage.
Michael Jul 21
Memories I forgot long ago
Mother and I frolicking through a meadow

Hands held tight together, chained
Her soul in mine, preordained

Beautiful Rose columns entwined as a whole
Barren was my sole when I jumped
through that beautiful knoll

“Why would something so beautiful be so rough”?
“When you’re that beautiful you must be tough”. She said in rebuff

“Then how will I display my love to such Rose who keeps me at bay”?
“Those who truly love such Rose knows  how to portray, to keep away such unworthy prey”. She said in dismay

Young at age, yet such refined words gave my soul much to crave
Yonder I put that Rose, although there I’ll be each stage

Physically be with that Rose always you not
Paint that Rose with praise for all of days, not what you bought, or what you fought, no other gift will lift as such, naught

No other love will ever approach, nay can ever replace such love for a Rose or that of a mother
Naked is that Rose with no thorn, forlorn just as all of those, native is that Rose with no lover

Such a Rose must be protected from the worries of life that make life hectic
So let that Rose be, respect how it’s protected, your neglect may make its thorns as sharp as a knife, always stay connected

Vibrant as nature, diverse as life, different as you
Variety is a color many souls abuse, but can’t relate, taken for granted, but on the right canvas, creates the perfect madness. I’m familiar with the color, are you?

Life, as fickle as that Rose, more beautiful than those, but do not take lightly
Love, sweet as that Rose, everyone knows, or when you hold too tightly?

Keen was my mother as she patched me, pain in her eyes from what she’d seen. The growth of a son, oh so much to be done

Agony in her eyes, as strong as gasoline, sometimes life can be an arson
Alive as a being, potent as kerosene, pain is more than an action, it’s a person

Kiss she gave, as we laid. I slept in her lap, my soul wept. Not from the pain, from two souls, mother and son. I watched the Rose, I told her, “I felt your pain, I would do it again, please tell me, does that make us one...”?
To me, the Rose is love, whether that be family, friendly, or romantic love. What does it mean to you, and can you guess the color?

— The End —