It’s just like
Lemons.
That’s what they say the world is made of.
It is our choice to remain sour
Burdened by our mistakes, trials, sins.
Or to sugar-coat it all with our lies,
Being very good at ignoring truth we don’t like,
And have a lemon drop.
Move on, move on, move on
Past what we know is right,
Distract us from the sour and the bitter and the pain.

In this fast paced world,
There is no time for lemonade.

It’s too long to
Hand squeeze all the citrus,
Add the sugar,
Boil it, and then let it cool,
Adding ice and water
To make it less concentrated.
Perfect summer day treat.
No one but the
Old-timers have time to make it.

Good thing I am old fashioned.
I will make time to have lemonade.

Can be amazing
Then drive you crazy
It can be the rope that snapped
That once held you to the Clift
Love can be the one blocking the blows
But the one throwing the fist
It's the life guard that saves you
After it tried to drown you  
When you were lost
It was the one searching for you
And it found you
Forever your in its grip
When it's not around
You'll do anything to feel it again
A cure after its poisoned you
This thing call love
Is the bandage after it hurt you

Love tossed you out in the cold
Now you can no longer feel your toes
The color has left your finger
They're no longer useful anymore
You use to love winter
It's the season love introduced herself to you
You two played in the snow until your nose was blue
But when the snow storm came through
When the wind was the coldest
And the snow stung your face
That's when she abandoned you
Took the warmth she brought
Without her
Your just an empty shell
For the cold to just seep into
Love has treated you so coldly
But hypothermia with comfort you

I can see the lies in his eyes
He puts on another face
There's things he wants to hide
I can feel the lust beating in his chest
When he tries to put it to rest
It just seeps out in his dreams
The man in the mirror
Trips over temptation like a crack on the ground
He doesn't trust much
So the things he deals with alone
Eats him raw and alive
A broken record playing in his head Saying you can survive
His only way to cope Is to sit and pen this
If feeling was an onion then he peeled it away
Doesn't let anyone in
Being in solitude has made him blind
Sometimes the man in the mirror hates looking at me

My eyes burn
Like smoldering ashes have been thrown on my chest
I now know it's time for me to rest
But thoughts mock me when I try to sleep
They bear down hard
Like a car moving downhill
There's a turtle in its way
Then I awake
And I realize that I mistake
What I thought was reality
Was just a dream
But it frightens me because I don't know what it means
And as I think
It stops me from going to sleep
But I still remain sleepy

This is what I want to go out to
With a pen
In my palm
As I choreograph each line
For the last time
Hoping what I write fills you of me
One last poem one final time
Powerful enough you can hear the rhyme
As the words project from the screen
So you can visualize what I mean
And as I take my last breath
I'll leave it unfinished for the next

Fits of rage goes off inside my head
I can't tame me
There's an empty cage open
But I can't find a clue what's been set free
Hidden away inside me
Every once in awhile it goes on a spree
Crippling the good part of me
So I've been corrupted from the core
From this unknown disease
Spawned inside  
Pumping through my veins
Any good intentions by another is in vane
They can't be trusted in my brain
I'm my own worst enemy
The inner me
Jealous what it sees on the outside from within
Wants me only for itself
So it fends off anyone else
Because it wants my by myself

He found me in the woods,
One day
Said he knew I was afraid.
Still,
The warmth of his hand on mine
Chased all my fears away.
He left in my palm
An arrowhead,
A gift of strength, of courage,
Of art.
I've since placed it on a chain,
and worn it near my heart.