Everyday it's hard to decide,

Is she wrong or is she right.

Should I run or should I hide,

Should I love or should I fight.

Darker than the darkest nights,

Brighter than the brightest lights.

Without her it's hard to survive,

Show me the way , it's hard to find.

the sun
during winter
your smile
like a whisper

different things
in my life
stop the tears
from time
to time

waking up in the middle of the night
struggling to breathe
searching for anything my eyes can find
noticing all the little statics of reality
this is a losing fight
and no one can save me
here, there is no individuality
sleeping is micro dosing death
and when i realized that
eternal slumber didn't worry me as much

Basketball once more
       Jesuit justice
         Popehope

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)