Okay. So I write almost everyday. I don’t see that as a bad thing.
If you look at it through my eyes this is what you get.

With each day comes a new challenge a new emotion a new situation.

So with each day that I am blessed to have. I’m gonna share my thoughts and feelings because when I don’t have anymore days.

This is what people will look back on. This is what my legacy will be.

                               With love,
                                     Anonymous

You don’t know if you’ll wake up tomorrow. You don’t even know if you’ll live to see the next second. Isn’t that kind of scary. We all have a expiration date. And you sure won’t ever know when that day will come until your looking death right in the face. I guess you have to look at it this way. Every single second your getting closer to your expiration date. So the real question is.

How are you gonna live your life in the next second?

                           With love,
                                Anonymous

I listened to a song
to shut out Sunday sounds
My neighbor hammering
on fence six feet away
song played and played...
6 a.m. Monday now,
wishing retired neighbor
would have fixed the fence
today, while I'm away.

There is a tornado wreaking havoc,
Within the walls of my skull,
Shattering my psyche.

There is a small voice,
Imbedded in the lining of my stomach,
Speaking of hope and potential.
The noise is so faint,
I dare call it a whisper.

Floating days lifted in flight by birdsong,
waiting upon an evaporating cloud
of time and its passing, its trail leaving so soon.

How do I feel on a cloudy day?
Stinging eyes and stained regret,
things that in the Sun I do not fret
about or for.

A staring Sun's gaze burns so softly
upon a man walking the path
towards ever approaching melancholy.

I woke up on the twelfth of never,
I was missing the earth
Hadn't been home since we started
developing our little property
on the Moon.
When we cleaned the barn
today we had to take down
the gravitational field.
It was so much fun to watch
the pigs fly!

PS: I miss the earth so much, I miss my stuff...

He was the day.
Bright and warm.
Just basking in his company heated my insides.
His smile so blinding, I couldn’t look directly at him.
Overcast days came, but he picked me up and laid me down on his grey clouds.

But he was the night.
Stormy and cold.
His words were lightning and I was struck.
His voice was thunder and I was shaking.
So dark was he that I never knew what to expect.
His rain was pelting and I forgot my umbrella,
for it had been so dry yesterday.

He was the day, but he was the night.