swing the magic wand, abracadabra
you appear like waterfall in Sahara

drop a penny into a wishing well
our hands touched and our hearts fell

boxes of questions, nothing seem true
yet when I choose one, I found you

Why have I been
put here on earth?
What is my value?
What is my worth?

Am I destined
to be something great?
Or less than ordinary
will that be my fate?

Life passing by
not having a clue
Which way to turn?
What do I do?

Asking myself
is there something more?
This can't be it
of this I'm quite sure

On things I rely
there are just two
One is my faith
the other is you

I saw a turtle
slow walking on the road
a child kept it
He  laid it in a field

I saw a fish
abandoned on the rocks by the sea
a child saved it
he left it in the waves

I saw a child
barefoot running in a field
a man  mutilated him
he hidden a mine underground

I saw a child
on the sidewalk with his bicycle
a man killed him
drunk driving

I saw a child
I saw his purity
I saw him become a man
I saw his disillusionment

is the age that changes everything ?
is the self-awareness that changes everything ?

it would be better a pure heart
compared with a mischievous mind?

maturity
is companion for strength selfishness ?
success
is it the natural evolution of opportunism ?

we grow up learning
but what is the lesson?

is it perhaps that the adults
have to learn the greatness from children ?

which  is
the true utopia ?
dreaming of becoming big
or dreaming to go small ?

Questions, asking, always inquiring,
Boredom, controlling, brainwashing, time-wasting,
Answers, responses, results and results,
Topics, mainstream, popularity stats,
Demand it speak, the world of Cyber,
Ask, please, ask, for it to control you,
Learn what you need from what it can give you,
Learn but forget what it adds to your life.

What makes someone extraordinary?
What makes them ordinary?
Is there anyone who's just ordinary?
Aren't we all extraordinary?
Do we just underestimate ourselves in thinking that we have to do something profound in order to be considered extraordinary?
But even the littlest acts can be extraordinary.
I guess we're all struggling with what we want our legacy to be.
What do you want yours to be?

It's ok if you want to believe in God,
I won't stop you, all I want is a second
of your "ever-knowing time," to explain to me
how you figured out that we're all supposed
to know where we came from because of some
superstitious statement and some written signs.

Running. running, running so fast
Away from my fears, away from my past
That's causing me many tears
In which I cannot see clear
My vision now blurred
My hearing now impaired
By the lies that I've heard
Not really knowing why
Why me?
Why now?
Why then?
And how...
How could this happen to me?
How could anyone let this happen to me?
How come it happened to me?
Questions, questions but no one had the answers
But then I met You
You knew just what to do
You helped me see
The future that was before me
You helped me hear
Through all the voices that were there
Having You here, right by my side
Has been more than I could ever describe
This journey of discovery
Is now causing me to....
Run, Run, Run so fast
Into the arms of the One who knows no past.

Written by: Luwarner T. Moore
Wednesday, May 18th, 2016

They always ask questions
                Over and over again, questions are asked.
My lips a constant question mark, my hands a fleeting moment,
                 my hair ******* in thoughts I never question.
whether I am asking for knowledge or release or death is uncertain.
                               The last two are not mutually exclusive.
                                                             My bones are restless.
When she dips into the spaces between your ribs, digs out flesh and words with claws
                   I often wonder if you can even feel it.
                                        But my hair is too messy and requires my attention,
      My hands are too chapped for me to do anything but lick the cracking skin.
We are not an answer, and questions are not lifeboats.
         The sea is not afraid to toss and turn in its bed, drowning nightmares beneath it,
                                                             ­             But who are they?
                            My lips think they know, but they say nothing,
pinched into silence by something different than us, but not bigger.

                                       When our knowledge makes manifest something like peace
   I return to my whetstone, press my teeth to the grain, and wait for the storm to put me to sleep.

married to fate, chained to the future
my wounds won't heal, not even with sutures
the roulette ball rolls; who knows where it'll land?
will i know to take hold when you outstretch your hand?
each day my doubts plague me, gnaw at my soul
and sometimes i wonder if this is why i thrive in the cold
what prompts us to write, to shove words out in the open?
who can look into our eyes and know that we're broken?
the pen is a blade; my heart is a trigger
this place is a maze; my blood clumps thicker
three years ago, i thought i would be different,
thought i'd be bigger, or less worried about insignificance
i thought the world would turn on its' axis boldly,
and that i wouldn't crave days where i want someone to hold me
three years ago, i wonder if my sails had a stronger direction
and once upon a time - i swear - i had more connections
fear still finds me,
a panther stalking its' foolish prey,
and time still blinds me
with how quickly it ticks away
is success just a feeling? is it only a name?
is it even a level, a possibility in this game?
is passion a feeling, or just a thirst for fame?
is home a person, a place, or an imaginary plane?
my mind still haunts me, with its' rattling doors,
and sometimes my demons whisper that i'm doomed to bore
questions ignite my being, setting me ablaze
as i wonder if i will ever be ready for the adulting daze