I’ve made mistakes
I’ve crossed lines
Not all wounds
Heal with time.

I’ve drifted away from myself and my own,
I’ve gone off the deep end, left my own home.
I’ve reasoned with winters that promised a summer,
For a single soul I sacrificed others.  

Lost in the woods, I saw my reflection,
Seeking answers, I found more questions,
I breathed so deeply I lost all my senses,
My mind only thinks in perfect past tenses.

The fish in the sea, the birds of the Earth,
Your lies and your sins, what’s an apology worth?
You can replace the tiles and you can fix the walls,
But in the end, Babylon falls.

In a cement forest, filled with decay,
A young girl sat, her thoughts veiled the gray.
A simple life, she craved nothing more,
As the pace of the city, rapped at her door.

A field of lush grass, every blade soft and bright,
A smoldering fire, to keep warm in the night.
A morning stroll, evenly covered in dew,
Water so pure, it’d rinse her anew.

As she sat dreaming, on a life far away,
She heard a faint bird song, blending into the gray.
So futile a life, she pondered its choice,
To live in a place, that drowns such a voice.

My friend’s name is Complacent
She’s really just okay
Her voice is monotone
When we go out, she stays

She never gets wound up
She never gets stressed out
I’ve never heard her grumble
I’ve never seen her pout

Complacent likes to sit
Complacent likes to chat
She brags on why she’s better
I’m not buying that.

I am the crease in the sheet that you straighten before sleep.
The sore behind your bottom lip
The broken chip left in the dip.
The spider too high on the wall
The morning-after desperate call.

I’m the caffeine habit you can’t kick
The little itch that makes you tick,
I’m the light left on
The milk left out
The constant drip from the sink’s spout.

I am the failure by one point
The click you hear when you straighten your joints,
The hair that grows in all the wrong places
The nasty knot in your shoelaces.

I’m your nighttime drowsy and your wakeup grog,
I am your morning breath and your mental smog.
I am the teeny cut that stings so bad,
The very best you'll never have.

There once was a boy who was lost to a frat
He loved his Sperry’s and his backwards hat,
He used to like sports and women you see,
He used to be normal, if you ask me.

Now all he did was hang with his bros,
He was constantly loud and put on a show,
His stomach got bigger from all the beer,
His ego got bigger—for no reason that’s clear.

He walked around campus in only pastels,
And spent time in the gym, lifting barbells.
His weekends were filled with ******* and *****,
Class didn’t matter, he needed to snooze.

He needed his bros to feel like he belonged,
He loved his new family and thought others wrong,
When he graduated, he came to see,
There's no place for bros in society.

He said, “This isn’t right! How can this be?!”
The young man then whispered, “The problem is me.”

They called me a Porsche,
They called you a lemon,
If we were to touch,
I’d call it an accident.

I want to adopt an old-timer,
A jolly, kind old fellow,
His socks would never match,
And his sweater would be yellow.

He would tell me stories,
About the good ol’ days.
We’d inch around town,
In his 59 Chevrolet.

We would go fly-fishing,
And he’d wear flannel tops.
He would call me youngster
And I would call him Pops.

All is quiet,
The closet closed,
Dust gathers,
The bed is cold.

Relics remain,
Where life’s no more,
An empty room
On the second floor.

Dust the shelves,
Open the blinds,
Pack up the effects,
He left behind

Light beams in
As life seeps out,
A new age now,
A time without.