I would have asked you to stay
But I knew you didn't want to
So I watched you go away.


                                                       ­                    *If you had asked me to stay
                                                          ­               I would have, but you didn't
                                                        ­                                     *So I left, anyway.

Help me, for I am a traveler roaming this road, troubled and worried. For my mind will not rest till I am granted my eternal sleep. Till then I roam this long road of life wondering where it will take me, and what choices I make, that make me end up at the end of my road. I am scared, worried about what my past, that paints for my future. So much so as I forget to live in the present and love with all that I am. To risk my life for a life. To cheat death again and again, and to steal the happiness that sorrow tries to take from me. For I am a lone traveler the burdens are plenty, nothing but a knapsack, a pocket book full of memories, a necklace with a cross, and determination to move forward. May some god or all powerful being guide me on my journey, to finally lay my worried head to rest. Thank you.

When your heart breaks at another's crying ; how many pieces would you give them?
The ones who need you the most ; only want you to be there for them.
If you can mend a wounded soul ; your words reach deeper than the physical.
The warmth of a gentle embrace ; opens your eyes, to the sharing of tears.
When you can show what's inside ; you'll find that we all suffer from a lack of care.

You know what would look great on the library wall?
Maybe, perhaps, a wrecking ball.
Who needs real books when we have the internet and e-readers?
Who needs live action plays when we have movie theaters?
Are you wondering why there isn't any shade in the park?
We needed to fill the playground with shavings of bark.
Who needs ideas when we have technological omnipotence?
Who needs a savior when we can be saved by our ignorance?

If you're shaking your head, let it be in a mirror,
until the mantra of this generation becomes clearer and clearer.
Consume. Materialize. Deceive. Repeat.
Gain it all for ourselves, it's Mother Nature's treat!
You don't have to believe our intent is for peace or procreation,
in order to confess you've contributed to the world's condemnation.
We were made to be stewards and by sharing, will thrive
if not in this world where the fittest [and fakest] survive.

Is this what it's like to be a poet?
To taste every goodbye, to feel every moment?
To feel every detail, to see every flaw?
To kiss every star as the night starts to fall
To fall in love with the way the sunsets
To dream of the birds from dusk to dawn

Is this what it's like to be a painter?
To find it captivating the way the earth moves
Mesmerized by your very own torment
Never caring if anyone else approves
Ingenious, stamped across your forehead

Is this what it's like to be an artist?
To find beauty in the pain that transcends
From the demonized garden growing within?
To find something alluring in the way
*People walk away

Purer than the whitest Winter snow
As many flowers as Spring can bring
You bring more life to my soul
Your heart is warmer
Than the best of Summer nights
And you'r more beautiful
Than all the colors of Autumn
And just like those leaves
More and more each year
I Fall for you
Every passing season

I didn't want you for myself
Until I saw you with someone else
But what kind of man would I be
If I didn't leave you be
And atleast let you be happy