Good is a growing word.
It's a destructing thing to those who wish the worst.
Unable to indulge in anything other than good.
Facing forward so that is the way I go.
Can't change anything but myself, my path, my choices, My wrongs.
Kinda rusty in a field I haven't dab at in awhile.
Dressing everyday like a salad smiling with every bite I take.
Constructive criticism with every good intent.
Dreams shattered with tropical stroms winds that picks you up, but takes you nowhere.
Takes every breathe in me not to take it one step further.
Feels like I'm going I'm going circle.