Someone once said that we die twice--
First, when we take our very last breath.
The flame on our candle goes out as we
Transition between life and death.

But then comes our second dying,
Which is similar but not the same.
That death occurs when someone for
The very last time says our name.

So where are extinguished flames?
What happens to the morning dew?
What effect does speculating
Have upon our point of view?

Life has many questions to ponder.
I wonder if such thoughts are freeing:
Knowing that we once had been
And not remaining attached to being.

-by Bob B (10-26-19)

Wake up early
Do things that make you happy
In hopes they make you happy

Push them out
Not down
If they are out they might come back
But if their down they can only come out

In time you will forget
And they will forget
And it will just be another
Forgotten

Wake up early
Do things that make you happy
Until they make you happy

sometimes my
voice escapes me

my chest so tight
like being stabbed with a knife

throat dry
heart racing
breath quickens

for what reason?

my body's tired from doing tasks that I have no passion for
my eyelids are getting heavier by the minute,
like no amount of coffee can ever keep me awake
i am drained;
the kind of exhaustion that neither sleep nor food can ever cure

my teachers say they're preparing us for something bigger
i worry about my sleep debts but i worry more about passing
i just hope that the "bigger thing" is worth more than my health

yet here i am writing this poem that has nothing to do with the things i am required to pass
but at least it has no format,
it has no rules;
& more importantly,  i have no one to please

for my professors this poem is a waste of time
for them, this poem doesn't matter
but it does
it does to *me