You finally figured it out.
I'm not someone you should love,
not someone you want to love.

That's no good, said Miss pointedly,
As my poetic dart hit a wall
Made of contempt and frustration,
All hers, not really mine at all.

Where’s the structure, the rhythm?
Why there’s nothing at all,
Just a jumble of ink smudged words
You may as well scrunch in a ball.

I sat patiently and weathered this storm,
As her wind rattled windows inside my hall.

Are you listening Blake?
No, not at all.
Though perhaps just a bit,
Enough to recall,
Eighteen years later,
Long after your fall.

Perhaps you were right, and I was too young,
To see quite how bad my poetry was penned
On ink spotted pages in tea stains of angst,
The rules being lost as I twist them and bend.

So this is to you, my old English witch,
Who cursed my work with dismal dismay.
Maybe I learned a little bit more
Than you thought I did that day.

Are you going to do something or are you just going to stand there and bleed like the world owes you anything?

A man thinks for those
Who can’t think for others
Pray for those
Who don't pray for others
Without knowing the foes
A man feels friendship with others
But
When he recognizes his hidden foes
He don’t try to make them friends
By
forgiving, praying and caring
With his splendid rays of character

I can still taste your breath mixed with mine

standing at the top
bleary-eyed and nauseated
holding on to stomachs,
glumly watching rain splatter the windshield.
dawn was breaking .
it was freezing and gray;
There was no sunrise.
beaten by fierce wind gusts,
Were we going to ride
that winding wet road?
the most tricky parts
feeling like an idiot
I was up all night,
somber meditation on mortality
we approached the summit,
passing through the gates
how am I going to know my limits?
The volcano had conquered me
how have I lived this long?
watch the sunset.
we made it to the top
passing through lush forests
up the arid moon-like summit,
I descended into the crater,
a rocky path of rugged lava.
this otherworldly place
black, orange, red and silver
Vents emitted plumes
the air is crystalline and still.
I heard no sounds
I posed for pictures
in the background Romeo was waiting.
We watched the sunset
It was sublime