He writes poetry
But no one knows

He writes poetry
He writes about love
And loss

He writes about smiles
And frowns

He writes about sorrow
And forgotten towns

He writes about how lost he gets
Caught up in his own mind

He writes poetry to
And about others

But no one knows

Know one knows the depth of his soul
Because they all choose to see the exterior
And that exterior screams

Preppy
And preppy
Don't have souls

Or so they thought
Until the day he was consumed
By his own poetry

I'm scared of the tears

that I don't cry

The days like this

that I don't die

I'm scared of the pain

that slips my mind

It comes back harder

than what I left behind

©

stop and pause for a moment
and look around you,
listen to what you hear
and feel the sound of your surroundings,
the people, the air, the sky, the birds,
the land, the river and the flowers
embrace the love that you all receiving
from these element
enjoy the precious things
and appreciate it as much as you can
&
you’ll be glad to have this
present time,
to be mindful
that is right in front of you

How am I supposed to stand on my feet, when all they want to do is run away?

That's it, I'm done, not once more
I'll never put things off again

I push work back at every chance
My secret slothful sin

Well now I'm through procrastinating
It's time to change my ways

But I don't have the time right now
Swear I'll quit one of these days!