Joy is to be found
In seeing young people
Working together
Laughing
Discovering their identities
Creating memories

Those of us
Who are adults
Can support the young
On their voyage
Of learning

We owe
A brilliant future
To our young

The future
Should be built
For them

The ball flies fast,
from player to player like giant pinball,
each touch is a score,
for each pass is a telepathic reward,
of hours spent honing skill and strategy,
friends playing friends achieving their dreams,
to show the world on game day your skill unbound,
there is escape for those on court and of court alike,
the worries gone replaced by the battle of mind and body,
only the ball matters,
a pass high above the hoop leads to alley oop,
the crowd cheers and your heart is gleeful,
for the art is witnessed by all.

I used to think:
Who am I if I am not one with the rain?
Who am I if I am not a storm rolling through?

Who am I if I am not loyal to a fault?
Who am I if I don't risk everything for those I love?

I used to think,
Who am I if I don't fit here?
Who am I if I don't belong here?
Who am I if I'm not like everyone else?

Misshapen puzzle pieces,
Malformed from being left in the rain and sun-dried.
Cardboard hearts with self-inflicted paper cuts
And ribbons tied too tight to look elegant.

I used to think,
Who am I if I'm not who I wanted to be,
And I used to think,
Who am I if I hurt someone I care for?
Who am I if I fear storms?
Who am I if I stand up for myself and fail?

I used to think constantly,
But here's the key:
Don't think,
Don't try,
Act.

I am misshapen puzzle pieces
Left out to dry in the sun.
I am orange and black caterpillars,
And I am yellowing pages of old cloth bound books,
And I am one within the flames
That threaten to devour you.
I am garden snakes
And murders of crows.

It takes a long time to find who you are,
But once you take the time to find whoever it is
You're meant to be,
Well I have to say,
That journey takes some bravery.

I used to think.

Winter let you down again.
Hidden in layers, still your thin skin
Breathes in every particle, every wave.

In the heat of every symbol of love
You grow cold and depraved.
Beleaguer every drum,
Every instrument of calm
Until you are left with your breath
And what happens when it is gone.

Smoke a cigarette
When your mind will not rest,
Unwind in the secondhand sheets,
The daily reminder
Of your ineffable lack of sleep.
The pills that you take;
The ache of routine.

The panic button,
The false alarm,
A new lease of life
That swiftly lost its charm.

The talisman of a heaven-sent sign;
Extinguish the stars
For the city light lullaby.
Hear the ocean in waves of traffic,
Hear the truth in interludes
Interceded with static.

Hold fast to the tracks
You have trod before,
The pyrrhic loss,
Each opened door

That seemed to close
Each time you reached out,
Each time you fumbled for change
In your pockets of doubt.

Winter let you down again,
A dalliance with autumn,
Your terminal friend.

In the heat of love,
You grew cold for shelter.
Away from your moods
That shift with the weather.
Away from the rain that follows the storm,
Another surrender;
Another false dawn.