Whenever there’s a storm,
And I hear the rain pour,
As the wind blows,
I’m reminded of the coziness of home.
That feeling of safeness,
A place to hide from the darkness,
When it seems hopeless,
A bed for your tiredness.
Though I know,
Not everyone has a home,
Or one that is safe,
One without pain,
So I feel empathy,
For those who may not be,
Lucky like me.
As I write these words,
I hear you,
And I’ll hold you,
In a tight hug.
It’ll be okay!
The storms aren’t here to stay.
Even though the winds may blow,
You can find a home.

I hold onto a rope,
Though I don’t know where it goes,
But I’ll keep on holding tightly,
Since I fear what lies below.
Somedays it’s hard to hold onto hope,
Somedays I wish I’d just let go,
But I won’t,
I won’t.
I’ll climb out of the hole,
That my friend dug to bury me,
With her resentment,
And discontentment.
I won’t let her pain be my end,
Like it nearly was for her.
On those dark days,
When there’s so much unknown,
The one thing,
That’ll stay the same,
Is my hope.
I will make it to brighter days!

It may sound narcissistic,
Paint me as a cynic,
But I must admit,
I sometimes surprise myself,
That everyone’s lives,
Are just as complicated as mine.
Everyone thinks,
Everyone feels,
Everyone cries,
And everyone dies.
The way people act sometimes,
Makes you wonder if there’s a thought beyond their eyes,
But there is,
Just like there is behind mine.
We are all complex people,
With desires and dreams,
Goals and aspirations,
Pain and fears,
Ups and downs,
Strengths and weaknesses,
It’s enlightening.

It always moves,
Whether we like it to,
Or not.
We can’t control it,
And our influence,
Pales to its might.
Through all our wars,
Where we fought,
And people died.
What never changed,
The somber dance,
Of time.
We take its hand,
And hope we can keep up,
As we falter,
Broken-hearted.
It grinds us into a fragile shell,
Filled with heartache,
Like a snowflake,
An assaulter.
Some are accepting,
Other terrified,
Such as myself,
They try amending,
Their mistakes,
That they made,
In the past.
Can’t change it now.
We keep on moving,
No other choice,
Just keep on keeping on,
Hoping that the madness makes sense,
As we grow,
Because we know,
Time only moves forward,
As it always has.

People can be pure,
They can be kind,
Or narcissistic,
And blind,
To pain,
And strife.
They can betray you,
And twist the knife.
People can be empathetic,
Hold you close.
Be there for you,
When you need it the most,
Or break your heart,
Snap it in two,
Lie and say they’re sorry,
Like they always do.
They can nurture,
They can praise,
Or they can hurt,
And manipulate,
Depends on the person,
And their heart,
Where they are,
And where they started from.
People are people,
That’s who we are,
Imperfectly perfect,
Gazing at the stars,
Wondering our purpose,
Wondering the worth of this.
Not everyone is evil,
Not everyone is kind,
People are people,
All of the time…

I like simplicity,
I adore routines,
So that I can predict what happens next,
So that it’s guaranteed.
Life doesn’t work that way,
The wheels of fate,
Bound and determined to make me afraid,
And ruin my plans.
I start to panic,
And go manic,
When things change from the normal.
I wish to disappear,
And return,
When things are back to normal.
It’s a habit,
Hard to break it,
But I’m working on it,
To not panic,
And go manic,
When the routine breaks in two.
It’s a journey,
With the ending,
Nowhere in sight.
I’ll keep trying,
And defying,
The odds,
To make things right.
Routine is my friend,
And my enemy,
Bound,
For eternity.

Though today wasn’t the best,
Perhaps tomorrow will be better.
A commonplace belief.
Founded upon a simple ray of hope,
Sometimes, that’s all we need.
I’ll dream about a peaceful tomorrow,
One without the strife of today,
Tomorrow’s a new day,
At least, that’s what they say.
I guess I’ll find out tomorrow.
I’ll hope and pray,
That tomorrow’s better than today.

A boy’s wandering heart,
Dreaming and envisioning the perfect partner.
Hoping and praying they aren’t already taken.
Hiding and lying his true self,
Deflecting and protecting till he meets her.
Questioning and wondering if she’s even out there.
Breaking and crumbling under pressure,
Crying and trying to keep moving forward.
Thinking and finding that he was mistaken,
Learning and knowing that people can be heartless.
Waiting and standing back at the start.
Searching and scouring for the one,
Hoping and praying she hasn’t found someone.
Perhaps I need to leave my small pond,
Then I’ll find the one.

Sometimes it’s best,
To hold one’s tongue,
And take what you can get,
The alternative,
Is often worse.
Listen to their screams,
Their complaints,
As they say,
You’re the villain,
The hypocrite,
The one in the wrong.
Ignore the voices,
In your head,
That wonder if they’re right.
Sometimes it’s just best,
To tolerate insolence,
Rather than risk,
Corruption.

Sometimes,
I don’t feel anything,
Not something bad,
Just nothing at all.
Head feels clouded with fog,
The contagious, corruptive smog.
Slowly,
Killing,
Me,
From the inside out,
One day,
I’ll be free,
From this apathy.
I’ll learn to care again,
I’ll find myself again,
I will…

Always the cloud,
Blocking out my sun,
Filling me with darkened thoughts,
Never any fun.
Makes me question the point,
Wondering if the struggle is worth the ending.
Always suffering,
For what?
Eventually, the clouds will move on,
My sun will resurface,
I’ll hide my pain behind a smile,
And walk on,
For what am I to do?

This year, lunchtime seems to drag on,
When previously, before I knew it, it was gone.
What has changed?
It isn’t time.
It’s the sorrowful realization,
That friends can fade,
Just like the rain,
Before you know it,
Gone.
The silence,
Deafening,
The consequences,
Terminal,
I’ll never be the same.