By: Cedric McClester

I’m lookin’ for a place to belong
Where I’m not judged
And people get along
Where differences don’t matter
Am I wrong
To want to find a place to belong

I’m lookin’ for a place to fit in
Where even losers
Sometimes tend to win
So forgive me
If I say it once again
I’m lookin’ for a place to fit in

I’m lookin’ for a place to belong
Where the weak aren’t victimized
By the strong
And the meek aren’t trampled on
By the throng
I’m lookin’ for a place to belong

I’m lookin’ for a place to fit in
Where even losers
Sometimes tend to win
So forgive me  
If I say it once again
I’m lookin’ for a place to fit in

Now this may strike some as
A hopeless dream
If you can’t make the cut
Or the team
But it don’t matter
How bad it may seem
Never give up
Hold on to your dream

I’m lookin’ for a place to fit in
Where even losers sometimes
Tend to win
So forgive me
If I say it once again
I’m lookin’ for a place to fit i

I’m lookin’ for a place  to belong
Where I’m not judged
And people get along
Where differences don’t matter
Am I wrong
To want to find a place to belong



(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester,  All rights reserved.

There will be a time when it will end.
Be it parting
Be it death
So each passing minute with you
Pendulummed with sadness.
So many times
I looked long into your face.
I could hear the clock ticking.

Draw me a picture, trace the lines,
lead me into colors of your eyes.
Call me home, call me yours,
like thunder and winter,
Fill me up.

Then color the crevices,
the red fiery coals in my heart.
Disengage the chains and power,
fill them with the peace of a river.
Fill me up.

Lift me up on the wings of your desire,
Color me in the horizon's bay, where the shore
fills it's breath, and the sun's breath spills
on the eastern shore of paradise.

what will the night be
i have two beers left in one can
one bud rolled
one seed planted
two ways to approach this:
go to sleep,
or profoundly seek
answers. Close eyes ,
or reach deeper,
until
deeper is down and my two beers
empty the one can.
the bud no longer creeps in my skull.
so now,
I am slitted eyed weary of
becoming
of the normal.
punching
that clock.