I have sunsets on my cheeks.
Blushing roses
and pinks.
I have flowers in my hair.
Blooming,
growing with me.
I am a wanderer
around my life.
Navigating
who I am
and who I want to be .
I wonder what
the seed of the maple knew
Before he was told
to be a tree.

The story
writes
the writer

I ask the price before buying.

There's a price tag for everything
upon the breakeven a levied charge
for life has not one bit
bought sans the urge to profit
taken home void of bargain
friend, lover, companion
at a price not to be alone
without a fallout of gain or pain
of sweet or bitter taste
lifelong joy or sooner regret.

Do I have a price?

As for my own
I feel always underpaid..

the woman I took to the bed
the child I raised
friends and companions
seem all miserly in paying the dues..

maybe they rue too
I haven't paid theirs.

Do not cry
Do not worry you didn’t do enough
I am free from the burden that I carried every where
Or maybe I looked to my wrists
And realized that there were no shackles
Only the ones I drew there