They tell us to hold steady,
keep the ground firm,
but the ground itself shifts—
silent adjustments beneath
the weight of old decisions.

Change rolls in like the tide,
deliberate, insistent;
some brace against the swell, while
others dive into its forward pull.

Neither stillness nor
movement alone can hold us—
we are in the in-between,
where each choice sends
ripples across the surface
and every hesitation
writes itself into tomorrow.

Gone too soon,
too far away,
far beyond reach,
without saying goodbye.
Only memories are left now.

If we choose to be
we can be:

the voice of the voiceless,
the strength of the weakest,
a glimmer of hope for the hopeless,
a ray of light in darkness.

There is a robot in my pocket,
it's smart enough to design rockets,
but just gives the forecast,
and knows all about my past,
it even works with no socket.

THEN the morning was a long way to reach you, I wrote with ashes the wounds in music as if god MOVED in the grass.

Today I am wearing
One of my father's neckties.
I know it might be a red herring
But it reminds me of him, so I look past all those lies.

It is a pink one,
With silver diamonds scattered.
I think it's rather fashionable
So, caring about others’ hasn't mattered.

I don it with a navy jacket
Just like the ‘ol days: suit & tie.
I’m not here to make a racket
About it, but just to state a point, I cry!

I am a femme fatale
Not a butch,
Rose-gold sneakers attire
Or coloured-heels as such.

It always gets a comment,
Sometimes a whistle or two.
I never thought I was attractive
But these feels, while I’m wearing them, surely do ensue.