I sleep in pitch black rooms and wait
for candles to light themselves
Thoughts the same shade of dark.
Counting sheep as they hop into  slaughter houses of gluttonous, avaricious men who trade their humanity for pocket change.
While satans minions work with circumspectivness to reap what their slave-like bourgeois  have sewn living with a motto of
Yesterday is history tomorrow is a mystery
In the Meantime fribble prodigal sons of the privileged ponder their inheritance
While the daughter of a currier burns her fathers letters because something's are best left unknown
and the candles remain unlit.
But beauteous animals still roam free in the wild,
little kids still smile.
There's hope in the heart of each child.
Sitting in seclusion and coming to Ambiguous conclusions is always productive
So When did the key to success become failure?
*when wasn't it?

I want to sit on your shoulders
And laugh at the earth
Just like all the stars

You know, if I had a penny for every poem I have read with the theme of
"You don't know what you have until it's gone"
I would be a rich man
It's a shame that it took me seventeen years and a handful of special people
To realize that sometimes clichés are correct

I am not sure if you are aware
But each time you inhale
It is called an inspiration
And each time you exhale
It is called an expiration
So here I sit
Echoing a process that has been perfected throughout the millennia
Except I guess perfected would be a strong word
Because we don't have it right just yet

You were someone who inspired me
To become someone who I could be proud of
Someone whose own stories set my blood on fire
And filled me with hope that I could take the raw elements
Of myself and forge them into something great
Because that is exactly what you did

Just a milkman's son
Who ended up becoming the smartest man I know
Who taught thousands of students
Both privileged and poor
And couldn't tell the difference between the two
Who inspired two generations of people
To learn
To love
To laugh
Whose little gestures meant the world
To everyone who had the fortune to inhabit yours

Your five sons went on to become
Doctors and lawyers
Businessmen and police officers
Even if one wanted to be a clown
You married a beautiful woman
Who walked with love in her heart
And kindness kneaded into her hands
Your grandchildren, while there are a lot of us
Each owe you for the knowledge and kindness you instilled in us
All this from a milkman's son

This poem isn't goodbye
Because each time I draw inspiration from the atmosphere around me
I am thinking of you and I hold that **** breath for as long as I can
Just waiting for inspiration to hit me
I squeeze my eyes closed and hope against hope that everything is going to be okay
Because I am too  scared to let that inspiration go, I am not ready to expire

So grandpa,
Please
For me
Take that breath.

Wanting to reach out
I can't grasp just any hand
so i can refrain and grab my own
schizophrenic anarchy is always my second choice.
So i tore rose pedals from the flower and yelled to the ever so guilty skies
She loves me not!

I must have been a sociopath in my previous life
to quietly deal with all my strife and dissension with the acquainted

A wise woman once told me some people aren't content with their thoughts
so they don't like to be alone
I lied and replied I AM
with all of my polar opposites I am more alone
than ever before, I can just blame the moon
but i know that I need my ray of sunshine.

*not self pity, autobiographical

I was born like this

God is in the rain
I heard that once and it always stuck with me
Even though, I was never quite sure what it meant
Until one rainy night
Warm, breezy, romantic
I found myself alone with you
Falling madly in love

Something about the rain is so seductive
Perfect weather to lie in bed
Bodies intertwined as a movie plays in the background
Your head on my chest
Heart beating so swiftly
A half smile on your lips
Because you hear it beat, and know what it means

A musician once told me
That God is love
And for me
On that most perfect of days
Our souls converged
Driven by the love found in the rain
Just as God is

Crowns for a king
Irons for a slave
Handcuffs for a prisoner
Coffins for a grave