I have never been to Alabama, or…
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I have never been to Alabama,
or where
Immortality
reigns supreme,
but I am told here and there
nooks and looks of poetry
reside abide and
ENLIVE,
And sadness is banished,
loneliness impossible,
&
Loveliness abounds,

And every poem
Gets a sun,
Becomes a star,
And every poem,
Is immortalized

And those who choose
to compose, selves to expose,
become angels protecting all who write poetry in their hearts,
but
who cannot nor,
dare to share
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but
they share with them...
who in turn
share to all
the confidence of
Comfort

In a mirror's honest gaze, I utter...
Dear Thomas,
This is my word to you
Belief is a feast of the eyes
And knowledge-
The power of the mind
But are you wise?
Yes! Til the doubt feasts on you
Like a rat slowly eating
The edges of your life
Taking away everything-
Confidence, wisdom and intelligence,
Defecating trails of struggle and pain
Leaving traces of misery.
What a way to learn.

To the future me...
Believe in yourself
To the past, it was a good lesson,
In the present,
Like a farmer, you stand
in the middle of the field-
That looks everything like your life
Watching... It is a filmstrip,
Detailed images here and there
A few parched areas,
Dying blades of grass
Hopeless crops darted across the field,
But there you are - standing
And hoping for a chance of rain,
A miracle perhaps-which you doubt-
Questioning,
'Will it quench the dry earth?'

Alas, your sweat provides little moisture
To survive a few struggling blades of grass
That humbly open their thin arms
To receive a few drops of life.
They look hopeful, and grateful
So should you.

Everybody’s busy
putting on a show,
chasing approval
from people they don’t know.

But here’s the truth —
and let it stay:
Nobody cares
at the end of the day.

Only your friends,
the ones who are near,
hold your heart
and truly care.

So let this be
your daily prayer:
You don’t owe proof —
nobody cares.