To feel the morning sun upon your face,
To be awaken with the kiss of the morning sunshine,
The sound of the birds chirping an unknown melody
Human voices, of laughter from far away,
Foreign tones without the titles,
Somehow, you manage to walked to the bathroom
First thought, where am I? How did I get here?
Why am so alone?


My poem always has a meaning,
My soul is tired, my soul is loss
Rubbing the palm of my hands together
Doesn’t seem to work this time:
It’s best that I reached for a glass of wine
Life can take us, or break us,
Lord whom can I trust?
I don’t need anyone to love me
I often whisper under my breath
But when the breath whisper back
Girlfriend, this life of ours is merely a test
a crazy ride dude, a crazy ride this
thing called life…no update, no update:

Cleansing my Aura with a good write
A good version of my inner thoughts
Without burning my candle at both ends
My friends…..my poems always have a meaning.

~~
*My candle burns at both ends
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends -
It gives a lovely light." Ones of Millay’s open stanza