you are not in my life but you are in my words, in my art, in my poetry, in my letters
you are not here but your soul is
you are my muse, my anchor
you are me, i'm you
we are the reflection of each other on my words, on my paper

DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, I know it's not just me:?

at the end of the day man is bound to that feeling of being lonely
the one that would devour his head severely yet slowly
maybe he's within the surroundings all through & in between
maybe he's already eaten into grounds he saw & yet hasn't seen
but eventually you are a mind & a mouth at the same
whoever you were wherever you are no matter your name
or maybe that's just me three a.m. in my bed
or maybe a reason is just blamed rather than said
or maybe that's just us the ones living in our heads
or maybe the mind convinces so not to end up mad instead
the lonely truth of the pathetic human thread you carry somehow
ironically holds an expiry date even that one you thought of now

                                                            ­                        ------ravenfeels

take this time to rest in bed
so that tomorrow you can clear your head

Does it seem like a hundred thoughts a minute,
Often race through your mind, often worried about,
Getting somewhere on time?
Doubting, your thoughts, some things you do,
Thinking others are watching and wondering about you?
Feeling, like your body is running a fast race inside,
Uncontrollable, as if riding a scary carnival ride?
Speaking before others finish, what they have to say,
Or thinking of something else, as if they were in the way?
Taking time to criticize, what others say or do, only quick,
Complements, or positive statements, come from you?
When talking to others, often telling them what you think,

If any of these rings a bell in your mind, you’re not alone,
Millions are the same, in this life, this time!

The Original: Tom Maxwell © 10/28/2006 AD
Revised 1/7/2022 AD