"Poetry doesn't have to rhyme, it just has to touch someone where your hands couldnt."

-Rudy Akbarian

If you were a book
I would run out of ink underlining all of my favourite things about you.

I wonder often what I would do if I were in Jesus shoes.Would I have enough faith to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. To do what was necessary to save everyone from their transgressions.   I would like to think I would follow in his footsteps. I would like to believe that I could take everyone's pain away. I realize the probability of this actually happening isn't real but I can dream. Can't I? I can do what is in my heart and I can be there for people in their time of need. I can make a difference one kind deed at a time. I will make a difference.

I lay awake at night staring at the ceiling wondering why I can not turn my thoughts off.
Before my eyes the  ceiling comes to life playing out scenes from  my minds recollections. Is this a dream or am I awake. I know I remember doing these things thst are unraveling before my eyes only In these images I do things differently. Could this be my conscious telling me where I went wrong or is my brain playing tricks on me.  I wish I could close my eyes and this movie would end but even with eyes closed the story unfolds.  It is hard to differ between reality and fantasy. Which is real and what is the moral to this story.  Help me understand

~

I read your poetry
and I am taken away
to a place where my childhood waits

Those sunny summer days
when life was easy,
and pressure was only a word taught in school

I feel weightless,
as if I can fly
and your words are my wings

You tug at my heart,
tempt my senses
and touch me in ways I have not felt before

I read your poetry
and it is as if
I am talking to a long lost friend

Catching up on good times,
crying tears with you
and sharing every smile

Walking long paths,
waving good morning to each sunrise
and good night when it sets

Dancing in moonbeams
and counting shadows,
which always add up to two

I read your poetry
and I am in awe
of your amazing talent

and I think maybe I should
just put down my pen, for yours
*is all the poetry I will ever need