Someone strokes my hair
And I want it to be You
Someone holds me when I'm crying
And I want it to be You
Someone tickles me, making me laugh
And I want it to be You
I go somewhere
And I want to go with You

My mind is one big empty space
In which I can almost
Hear You speaking
But when I turn up the volume
All I hear is static

What happens when you realize,
That this is the wrong lifetime?
That you missed yours somehow.
That this life is essentially the waiting room for the next.

When you lose a dream.
When you realize that no matter how hard you try,
Life will continue to fall down around you.

Do you just get up and keep going?
Maintain the staus quo?
Try harder?

What if you miss the next life too?
What then?

How many lifetimes does one soul get?
How many to get it right?
To reach the goal, the finish line?

Is it fate, destiny that decides,
Or is it we that make the decision?
In that shadowy world between death and rebirth,
Is it we who choose when to re-enter this realm?

And if so, what happens when you realize.....

That this is the wrong lifetime....

That you missed yours somehow....

What happens?

Shadows follow me into my dreaming
mind. My love, with his face ever beaming
is turned in my dreams to a skeletal
curse, His spirit slagged as hot metal
looks. The sunlight glows black streaked with red
And falls like cold ash, covering my bed.
Chasing me, haunting me the shadows prey
on my subconscious, driving me away
From the comfort of day, the world of light.
Deep into darkness, their world is the night.
Struggling, racing, like swimming through tar
I pull myself up and see from afar
Light in the tunnel, but in fear I quake,
For I realize, I'll never fully wake

I pour the water
I fill the basket
I push the button
On the coffee ***

Uniforms in the wash
Socks in the dryer
Dishes are washed
Floors are swept

The bed has been made
Dinner is cooking
Kids are outside
Homework is done

You come home
From a long day's toil
Hungry and tired, ***** and sore
You see the dinner, the coffee
The clean socks and floors
And your heart is at peace
Your mind can rest easy

For the love that I give
Through the work of my hands
Speaks louder than any words
Ever could

Knights clad in paper armor
Draw their pen-shaped swords
In preparation for battle
Against the dragon named Algebra

All year they've trained for this day
Poring over musty tomes
Filled with archaic battle plans
Entire armies have been lost
In the dangerous search
For the elusive variable called X

The informants A and B
Have consistently given
Inconsistent information
And the number line
Has completely deserted them

The numbers taunt the knights
Mocking their puny calculators
Confident in their unanswerable status

Yet one by one
The polynomials fall
The dragon bows it's head
The Knights have won the day.

Screaming, Running
Crying, Falling
Waking
A Drink of Water
Back to Sleep

Coffee is the Black Blood of the Universe
It Flows down through Time and Cultures
Creating, if not lasting Peace,
A working Truce
Between the Warring Factions
That are Humanity
And Mornings