Sometimes, for years together
we die every day, we suffer

We live the same cycle of pain,
making resolutions in vain

Then, one fine day, out of nowhere
It comes our way; we stop and stare

As if, it broke our train of thought
In reality, it helped strangle the monotony we fought

Until that day, from inside a grave, we stared outside at evolution
Our world stood still, but now, it tides a revolution

A seeming chaos has never felt more comforting, more structured
Now that we're following our own orders, untethered

My life changed the moment I met you
The moment you called me yours
The moment I knew I wasn't going to be alone anymore
The moment I knew you were go to be with me no matter what
The moment I felt safe
I felt safe in your arms
I knew my life was in your hands

It is a peaceful feeling to be able to just to listen
To the female without wanting to get into her pants
Don't get me wrong the thought crossed my mind
But I didn't act on it by being preverted by feeling her up
It was a beautiful moment

Weren't you told,
Some time ago,
A picture's worth a thousand words.
Well I can show with a click or two,
A thousand pics for each word you choose.

to write like me
you must first review my routine
lift weights
take boxing lessons
drink beer in bars
laugh loudly in the street
sing karaoke every week
date women from different backgrounds
kiss like you mean it
and make love that soaks the sheets
take random trains
to far off places
work jobs until you hate them
and quit as you slowly go mad
then you will be half the poet I am
because I am still only half the poet
I know I can be
it's a challenge to balance
to juggle this routine
I am trapped between two loves
my love for life
and my love to write
between living life
and writing about it
between being alive
and writing about it
to me writing and living go hand in hand
but they cannot always co-exist
when you burn your light to the brink
as I do
i must find the line
but the line is hard to find
because there are only so many hours in a day
and life swoops us by like an owl
with a mouse in its mouth
leaving us with only a brief window
in which to carve a lasting legacy
beware this life style isn't for everyone
only the chosen few can pull it off
this artful existence
this vagabond life
a tiresome gift
from mischievious gods
who see themselves in us
but never mind kid
you are probably a better poet than me anyway