It is so surreal how vivid i see, the past playing out in my memories.
swinging away, a smile and a quick simple kiss.
these are the memories that my heart does miss.
Black and pink, the suave and the silk, lips locked in love, leaving behind stains the color of milk.
the pain and the ache, of missing a voice, separation of hearts, by another's cruel choice.
only to later surface a strength that lay hidden within, to persevere through the peril, oh, our beautiful, innocent sin.
my lover, my lady, my best friend, my baby..call it crazy but these are the memories that my heart misses most.
Second chances, are second chances ever a plausible reality.
i can see the providence, but i doubt
oh God can it be.
i dont feel up to par, or deserving,  or perhaps its not that but that my heart feels fear at the yearning
i still remember the burning
and the butterflys, i help deep within, i still long for the love.
memories of our innocent beautiful sin.
oh we meet again, my old companions, if i may.. my friend.
namely so, you are my memories.
contemplating second chances, for the future, to have what we had back
oh my sweetest of regrets, how i look back on your embrace
as i sit here missing you, as some soldier off at war
i can still here the gunmetal clash, as you slammed and walked out that door.
such a beautiful bloom our embrace was that warm spring.
now the pitter patter of teardrop showers metronomes as you sing in my dreams
are these my memories of second chances...or my second chance for memories

My life is out of my hands, my fate is it woven, these paths i choose to take are they but truly chosen.
my heart is beating still, but for now my love stays hidden.
safely here i meditate, on past pictures so beautifully vivid.
a soul we all are born with, or at least is what most choose to assume.
but perhaps a spirit is something else entirely, bodies burned in corpseless tombs.
destiny is a touchy subject, where is truth among so many varied interpretations
this image we have of fate walks in hand with beauty in the eyes of differing relations.
oh, that what it is, to be held in the heart, with someones or somethings favor.
these are the makings of merry moments, merit these memories as ones to savor.
procastination is the thief of time, stealing away our oppurtunities and chances.
idle hands sit idly by, we must be proactive in our advances.
to want is to welcome in hunger, as is to desire the cousin of greed.
i ride through the storms of this life, with a pen that silently bleeds.
from my soul, the strength does come from, spirit and body both do manifest it.
while the value of ones outcome is solely dependant on effort invested.
these twenty four hours can seem so long, until it is time that is finally needed.
recently, for some reason, time is all that i have been seeing
wading through these days, from sun up until rise again, like this pendulum swing process is my only friend
that ive known lately.
but its all this time tallyed up and the bones in the back of my attict that make me.
digging through old dirt see, as i try to lay to rest these, bodies in my closet.
i have the tendency to stay reserved, im always humble but know that i shall never back down.
i think its about due time, from floating by on cloud nine, i need to come on back down,
im trying to see these size nines planted firmly on the ground again
to be able to think clearly i had to reclaim my clarity of mind,
here's a penny for your thoughts, watch me throwing down these dimes.
throw away the nickels to my dreams.
ive already done lived that life, i have already seen everything.
there is to offer, in these dime store disasters.
now as a Man i want answers,
as a Scholar seek knowledge.
as a Gentleman ill walk at the time i choose to frolic
ill never need another person here to tell me that approve it.
my life has been left to the light, this is no longer in my hands,
my faith and lifestyles prove it...