Is everything the way you thought before?
Has nothing changed,
The lessons learnt
Forgotten the very next day?
Is perspective still the same way
The memory is disappearing
Life is moving on
Time won't slow down
Am i still the old me,
I dont feel changed at all.

Hey future,
I need you to listen to me,
I yearn for splashes of colors
for I have traces invisible
I work for hands reliable
for I need to have what it takes for the undescribable
I try to get things all nice and glowy
so please make them sliced yet flowy.

                                                         ­            -storm-

The playground
With series of
Fortunate and unfortunate
Events and opportunities
Along with
Easy and hard lessons
To learn
With each self made desicions
Whether good or bad
To overcome past
But to leave some good memories
At the end
Life

And the coffee was cold
so was He

Information is
of the Mind.
Knowledge is of the Soul.

Good Lesson or Bad, Doesn't Matter;
A Hard Lesson Learned
Is A Lesson Hard Earned...

I repeated every lesson,
          hearing every drowning
word...

Every syllable that was recast,
       but I never learnt a single...

done over,
                        duplicated..

Reproduced as another version of
              the same verse..


Everything was!
                refashioned,

redone, remade..
   In the fashion of what was before.

But even though I sat in every class..

        I never took a single word in..


The teachers changed, but I remembered
                     that one who made me resit


every lesson....

I cant see anything in this crammed space...

                    But hopefully one day some
one will cover me for a toilet break..

And I'll be peace....


I resit every lesson and still
                      all I see is deathly words..
                                       Never heard,
   but reverberating though hollow bones

I received a few little letters
Scattered by my shining sun
Digitally mastered, he has overcome
Somewhat (insert a pause)
(I struggle for the word
For mixing up letters - you know the one)
DYSLEXIA!
He enquired about his grand sire
Wanting to know everything
Every little thing
For he perished when he was very young
He then recounted to me
His one remaining memory
Of finding a tiny little turtle
With great glee and awe
On a walk between our two houses
And their interchange there and back
Now I can but wonder
Would he have any idea
that one small adventure
Would be all that remained
In a boy’s mind, now a man
With two boys of his own
Of their short time together in life?
When he swung his walking stick
And batted that tiny turtle into the pond
Would he have reached over
And picked it up instead?
Or let the boy who was so excited
To find a tiny turtle on a walk
With his beloved Papaw
That memory has the same impact
As your walking stick on a tiny turtle
I suppose.
I do indeed wonder as I sit to compose
Words for my grand babes to find
And come to know me by
And I let that Sun’s memory guide me
On our little walks now....
We might find a little tiny turtle.

Not like life, when it's the end, it's the end
The sun will set, yet it will rise again
The lost opportunities can be rendered tomorrow
But, the same sequence will never show

Enjoy the clouds while they're at fleet
The patterns will never aver again repeat
Be open to the opportunities that knock
Like a rock, once thrown, they'll never come back

Regrets, nostalgias, and broken dreams surround
As the pink skies are swallowed by dark clouds
When the day comes to an end
It remind
things in this world are transient.