When the war has begun and I stutter a cry,
I can’t even bring myself to voice the word “goodbye.”
I can’t fathom the thought that I’ll never see their immaculate face,
And finally lose at life’s last daring game.

I wave my hand in agony and pain,
Knowing deep inside there will finally be a day,
When I look into the beautiful eyes,
Of the one who turns the lowest of lows into the highest of highs.

I can’t help but recall the happiest days,
When the day would begin and love would so lightly rain.
The drops fall down like a shower of sun,
And reap what is sowed and only begun.

I stand there with shaking legs,
Denying the thought of never seeing them again.
I know they’re happy and enjoying God’s grace.
While I’m still living the pain of life and yearning to see God’s majestic face.

I hate those people,
who ponder every moment in their life.
Injuries don't hurt them when from the knife
People who struggle to break free from strife.

I hate those people,
who search for their own origin.
The meanings of loss, and of win.
People who stray from their kin.

What are we, but figures of skin?
What are we, but souls of sin?
What are we, what have we been?
What story is there behind a grin?

The stories of men are what I seek.
Behind each face, the messages speak.
Of people turned depressed and morally weak,
and of experiences which leave men bleak.

Through barking dogs
?Hooting owls, hissing snakes
?And twilight ghosts,?
The night gets to the day.

Mental illness is not a joke.

I know that to be 100%
You know that I have anxiety.

I know that you hid things from me.
You know that you most certainly had.

Depression is a chokehold.

I know that to be 100%
You know that too late.

I know that I love you.
You know that you do not.

Tonight and tonight alone
I propose once and for all
You may be the one I love most of all

But to have you forever mine
Is a choice I fear to make
It may conceive heartaches
That no couple should ever take

The leaves of my everlasting tree
Seem to be evergreen
No matter how hard I try
No leaves ever wither and die
They stare me in the face and mock

But are you the flower bud at the top?
One of the many goals of all my struggles?
Is this a decision that will lead only to trouble?
Are you as true to me as you say you are?

I can't have you as I am
I'm just a wreck on a promised land
Will you wait for me
Wait am I rushing into this

A Pieces instinct?
You can find another
Many are better than me

Physically
Mentally
Even wealthy
I'm trying to conquer this tree

To be perfect
I need you to see
That I can't see the flower
Unless I pick these leaves

So many leaves to pick
So many times I will slip
So many flowers I overlook

I move up slowly
Foot after
Foot after
Foot

One day this tree will make my book
So I'll climb regardless
Embrace it all
hardships and darkness

Just to get to you
Success is necessary
To have a woman like you

Eight hours everyday five days of the week.

Come home, eat dinner go to sleep and have a weekend break.

Wasting time or time gone wasted? Pay the mortgage if I had one to pay. Pay the bills and send the kids all off to college.

That's what management says. "You millennials, always ruining something!"

You can't feed a family on avocado toast seasoned with debt.

Is it worth it? This life I have? These four-walls are a cell and I'm paid to be locked in a for-profit prison. Eight hours everyday five days out of the week.

Food and sleep are a punctuation. Sunlight through a dusty office window and stale break room coffee.

Blink and you're forty. Blink again and you realize that you can't get back the hours you spent on overtime. Glazed-eyes and a faded smile.

"If you don't like it, quit." I would if I could, but I like to have a roof over my head and hot food in the wintertime.

I'll retire when I die.

At least I know that my kids won't have to pay for my coffin.