I have found strength in foreign places,
And inconceivable peace in strife,
Beauty in so many common faces,
And respect for death within my life.
Found honor in holding a dying hand,
And found clarity through a shroud,
Seen the valiance of the weak,
And the humbling of the proud.
Amazed myself on occasion or two,
And learned how to let go,
Discovered the real value of shame,
And watched the stunted grow.
I have seen miracles happen,
And felt the purest form of pain,
Treasured the unworthy;
Danced naked in the rain.
I've felt God's spirit within me,
Defined virtue on my own,
Found solace in acceptance,
And discredited what was known.
The sum of all the trivial moments,
Which never seem to cease,
Won't ever be as treasured as,
Any one of these.

I packed a little box today.
The one of you and I.
And with every item that I placed.
I could not help but cry.
The box was full of memories,
Of all the times we shared.
Times before I had to question,
Whether you even cared.
Some pictures of the two of us,
Somes poems wrote long ago,
Some movie stubs and jewelry,
Are all thats left to show....
That for a moment I had loved,
And that I was loved by you,
But if forever has now ended,
Then there's nothing left to do...
But pack our little box away,
To store momentos of our years,
I held it close up to my heart,
Then sealed it with my tears.

I have often wondered the purpose,
Of the people which I've met.
Why there are some I can barely remember,
And some I can't forget.
Perhaps it's God himself at work,
By way of these, to plant a seed,
A seed that will grow strong enough,
To meet another's need.
No matter how short the span we had,
No matter how small my part,
Could it be I held a purpose for,
The occasion of your heart?
Were you meant to be my teacher,
Of the lesson so well-taught,
When you seek the truth and find it,
It won't ever be forgot.
And who am I to question,
Just why things have to be,
Or what lies in another's soul,
That stops it being free?
But I will share what I do know,
Whether we rise or fall,
We can be sure that *time and chance,
Will happen to us all.

My dreams?...Well, they expired years ago.
Dreams have a shelf life too, you know.
Like milk, they can spoil within a day.
Leaving no choice but to throw them away.