The mind is the ocean, full of wonders and life,

your thoughts are the fish, that swim to your soul.

Your soul is a painting, filled with passion and grace,

your heart is the artist, so original and free.

Emotions are a paintbrush, the artist holds,

to give unto the world a picture of gold.

Your face is an art gallery, whose walls are alligned with beauty,

as rich as the art they hold, the walls are your body.

Your hands are a gift, please bless the world

for the words you speak, are a pinch of salt,

ask yourself "will it dissolve".

The road less traveled,
Is love unraveled,
Not lust bedazzled
Just hearts entangled…

The road less traveled,
Do tell, I’m marveled
will favor the fumbled
and bless the humbled…

The road less traveled,
When lovers quarreled
Didn’t leave them harrowed
Broken or narrowed

The road less traveled,
Is dearly farrowed,
But like I’ve arrowed,
Is quiet adored!

Walk, talk, smile, laugh,engage in all the joys of life

A walk well planned, talk void of emotion, smile well practiced, a laugh utterly strained out

Meet me. The me you see every day. You meet and greet, empower, mistreat

Forced to hide and retreat, loud yet discreet,  meet me. A well formed smoke screen to shield me from the pain. Not that I'm hurting...i just never want to go back again.



Work, play, learn, grow into a mighty woman of valor.

Work hard, play not to die inside, learn the worlds ways and grow into bitterness

Meet her. You're in school with her. In church, at work, the ultimate Joan of ark,

cries in the dark coz fate made its mark,  listen...hark. Meet her. To her, waste called by any other name is still waste. A mistake called human is still a mistake. Not that shes hurting...she just never wants to go back again.



Big, strong, tough, focused on the legacy he must leave.

Big boy, strong by default, tough on the exterior yet focused with no vision.

Meet him. A little boy ignored for too long, wannabe king kong, isolation is his song, A magnet for the wrong, personality faker than Hong Kong, meet him. Like a forgotten comic book hero that wears a mask anyway. Trying to be the father his wasn't to him. Not that he is hurting...he just never wants to go back again.



Wisky, lager, spirits, beers and a little extra more,

Wisky in the morn, lager for noon, spirits for the early eve and beers for the night.

Papa do you see? Aren't you proud? We didn't become like you, we are better. More lethal than any of the blows mama endured, more than any spirits you drowned in.  we saw it all. Bottles always bottoms up because you broke and, just didn't know how to get back again.

We all yearn for Irony,

The Irony they call love,

The path that’s old and dandy,

A gift from above.

The irony when you love,

And are not loved in return,

To feel the peace of a dove,

Feelings that make your heart churn.

Love is patient,

Love is kind,

Yet it also means,

Slowly loosing your mind!

It makes you blind,

And somewhat frail,

Yet opens your hearts eyes,

And will always prevail!

Love is a sea of questions,

With a simple answer,

At its fullest and multiplied,

With no banter.

God is love,

And love the same,

Understanding it might take for life,

But its all in one name!