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A soft smooth motion 
across the skin of your feet-
A peaceful touch of grace 
that strokes the knots and
relieves the strain.
The stressful day complete,
no bickering or complaints.
This calm, this quiet 
must remain for the sake of our brains
You must realize,
It's the end of the day-
You're safely at home
And everything is okay.
Copyright Christopher Rossi, 2010
I really care about you.
I appreciate everything
you have done for me.
I cannot wait to see you,
for these days are drifting slowly
through a blinding haze.
I do not know where I am going
and I cannot wait
to hold you in my arms as we lead each other,
and I will not be alone.
So I hope to God you never leave;
you are every stitch upon my sleeve
that securely guards my skin.
Every time you come home,
I am reborn, I chant, yes I can.
I am vulnerable
weak at the knees,
though you make me
a stronger man
© Christopher Rossi, 2010
I look outside and wonder
when will time fly faster,
(only when I want it to, of course)
so I can be released from this cage
and roam free across the plain of grass
that gives me surface from the gravity
that  in and of itself keeps me grounded
because without it I would be lost
and floating without direction;
out of this world and into a place
that welcomes my existence
with dark open arms
but terminates my life
and suffocates my breathing calm
because oxygen is absent
and breathing is a healthy habit,
so I must relax and take a breath
to get through this day of madness.
© Christopher Rossi, 2010
silhouettes above my head
hold me down like  paperweight,
the earth crumbles beneath me
and separates into quaking plates;
a toxic air instigates choking breaths
along my gasping throat that strains,
I am graveled as I contemplate
what my path is when I graduate.
a key
f r e e d o m,
wave our flags
and renounce our forfeit
b e l i e v e
and place the crown upon thee
for standing
^u p^
and turning the key
that enables our country's
d i g n i t y
we fight
to protect
we deserve
r   e   s   p   e   c   t
for as a team
we take the throne
they are coming home
© Christopher Rossi, 2010
hair laced with condensation,
beading moisture streams with fluid
motion down my forehead
as I sweat the day away
amongst the land of incompetence

"can i help you?"
"can i help you?... can i help your lazy ***?!"

feet will not relax,
a constant swaying motion
a blood flow clots within my toes
and suffocates my freedom
of relaxing or letting go

if that ***** scolds me one more time…!

That empty water glass,
It sweats as well
forming a permanent liquid stain
atop the desk a ring of Hell

a ring of Hell for sure-
*room 154
© Christopher Rossi, 2010
a dull pencil
lay to the left of me
and the glass of water is dry,
to the point
the atmosphere hath licked
the contents away with spiteful pride.
a message blinks intermittent
as my file lay awake
with blood-shot eyes and frustration,
this job I cannot take.
© Christopher Rossi, 2010
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