Consider the potential of poetry
To free men’s probing minds,
to spill their hearts so totally.
The power of the verse reminds
that the stringing of mere syllables
can transform lowly language
into something greater than itself.
I equate it to a miracle.
That despite time’s passage
poetry can give such a true sense of self.

Death walked into the room
Looked me straight in the eyes
He said are you ready to die?
I said i was born to die
Death smiled
God smiled back

Why do some people choose to be unloved
because they won't accept the love that we give them

I'm being torn in two
My two halves are fighting again

The good side
The Mormon girl
She wants to be righteous
She wants to do all that she is supposed to
Stay on the path
Be worthy
Be active in the church
Go to BYU
Meet a return missionary
Get married in the temple
Start a family
Have five or so kids
Grow old
Stay in the church
And die
Knowing she raised a good Mormon family

And then there's the bad side
The rebel
She wants to do want she really wants
She wants piercings
She wants tattoos
She wants to be radical
Live her own life
Without consequences
From those Above
Go to college...elsewhere
Meet someone like her
Get married on the beach
(Or not at all!)
Maybe have a family
Couple kids
And live her days
Rebelliously
Enjoying her days
Not caring for tomorrow

And each side
Have their ups and downs

So

       Why

                 Not

                          Both?

And that's where my struggle lies
And how to combine the two
Nearly opposite sides
Into one
Imperfect whole
And that's what I'll be doing
For the rest of my days
Until I die
After I die
Is combine my two halves
And make one
And make Me