don't fall in love with the first person that gives you a little bit of attention.

I'm searching for a genie at the bottom of every bottle.
But three wishes will only last a little while.
So I'll just sit and sip on my own sorrow,
But you know I'm still going to try again tomorrow.

I'm searching for some rhyme or reason,
Why I'm still here in this mental prison.
Maybe so I'm forced into self-reflection.
But you know I'm stuck in this misdirection.

I'm searching for a mountain at sea level.
Hardly a man and more of a scarecrow.
I look like a person but I'm **** near hollow.
But you know you're a mountain and I'm just a pebble.

If I told you I love you, that I care for you, maybe even desire you... would you have me arrested?

In the dying days of my youth
the vivid colors
that my eyes can see
and the lucid imaginations
that my mind can imagine
are starting to fade,
as I arouse from a hazy dream
I realized how murky reality can be.
It has numb my soul
and corrupted my mind
making me wish to turn back time,
when I haven't drowned from my thoughts,
when I was still innocent
and know so little of the world around me.
Now, every step I take
leads me to the unknown.
But I know I have to keep moving
hoping to find calmness once again
in what seems to be
a lifetime of chaos.

I find myself stopping in a crowd of people and time slows still. Their laughter, their unpredictable movements, the fights and the resolutions and the bonding of brothers--all quiet. I am left in the fabric of things to wonder at the tapestry we call a culture.

How am I to know what is proper when all have their own true mothertongue? Who can teach me what to say when all I know is jumbled and disheveled based on who I've been and what I know?

I leave behind a southern legacy of liturgy and doctrine that outlines exactly what is human and exactly what is not. I step into a society that constantly years to fill a void--please Lord, find us someone who knows the Truth.  

Their apathy and nonchalance is false; bravado is left wanting. I know they they all cry out for connection and seek it in flesh rather than spirit. I am caught in the midst of the pursuit of happiness and the quest for morality. I know not what brings joy to humanity, I hike towards that river and hope it is not run dry like all others.

In the study of psychology, I have found so many places where words fall short and the great carnal animal within all of us takes precedence, demands attention, seeking comfort in a world that often overlooks those that need it the most.

Love is a fragile, timid thing that is most often hard to find and difficult to voice. Instead, we lash out in aggression to hide that inner child that needs a tried and true comfort of a known embrace. We seek forgiveness and express it in anger, manipulation, meeting our needs however possible because this is America, after all.

This is all we want in our sequestered human heart, the beginning of redemption.

Have you ever faced the dilemma of knowing that only love can save you and then had your mind ask you if that is your motive for the relationship you are in?
If your motive is to fall in love can you ever find the real thing?

One previous owner.
Two ears, used... not only capable of hearing but also listening.
Two shoulders to support a weary head... waterproof.
Two arms to carry, support and protect.
A heart that knows both empathy and care. (slight damage)
A mind, complete with experience and blank space to learn anew.
Packaging a little battered but in working order.
Must be willing to take as complete set.
Listing period... indefinite.

I sing an ancient song.
In voice once loud though now less strong.
The melody and chorus though of my own
To everyone at times is known.
In happiness yet louder in times of fear.
The question of why "I" am here.
The songs refrain passed along the line,
deluded that all its answers be mine.
But as has gone from times before,
The song will play for evermore.