Some people speak of living for the moment.
Having "carpe diem" as their slogan.
Their decree to want to take life day by day.
Hoping fate will lead the way, and things will always be okay.
Taking it easy; Life is a holiday to be enjoyed and  celebrated the right way.

Others say this is a hippie cliche.
That living day to day isn't living, its surviving.
It's not thriving, to truely live means striving.
Its realizing what you want most and trying.
About devising a plan to achieve all you aspire.
Gain the skills and knowledge you require.
To go higher, elevate and inspire, be someone others admire.
Stand with the fruits of labor in your hand that you have acquired and be proud for getting that which you desire.

Two ways to look at life I guess.
Value one view doesn't make the other less.
Assess what's important to you; pave your own road to success.
Some play the fame of life as checkers; others as chess.

someday you will
look back at your life
at all of those seemingly
impossible situations
and all of the days that
you felt like giving up
and you will realize
how every thing
had to happen
exactly how it did
exactly when it did
to bring you to
moments of bliss
and you will smile
because you’ll know
that it was you who
carried you through
with all that strength
♥ that YOU grew ♥

—from all the pain
that you once knew

After all i've earned them
the subtle pull
and swift replacement,
    the golden gain gifted
     from a soul dentist
I accept the strange medicine and sense
Suddenly my core forever
chasing the great
sulfur in circles as I fall adrift
    The wanting sleep which
     closes all eyes after end of sky
Behind mine observes a screen of
Out-knocked teeth and offput blood
Pft out in a porcelian sink
The glass just above
displays swollen
  tears and my
Soul transforming from
Learned lead and
cold iron into
August and
Nothing bleak like my
Now unique two front
It takes awhile but
I have a new smile at me
Twist the
Brass doorknob upside down
on it's axis and
Walk away from the abuse cycle owning
The tired metal middle
of earth cracking
Outer mold revealing a
Levitating ball of God who
Now unbound
Seeks six-thirty post midnight
High plains and
Holy painted solace
With bruises yellowing
I scream drive
into tunnels where the
warm streetlights racing in
my periphery
know I am the glowing go of life
And will never grow old despite
Losing a couple given ones

memories
feelings
tears
smiles.

after tomorrow, they'll be gone for a while.
as summer returns
and my main focus is not to learn,
i'll be alone and older by each day.
don't worry, we'll talk, they say,
but summer returns
and my loneliness yearns
for someone to talk to
but I don't want to bother you.
until august comes back
and my head goes whack,
will you speak to me,
you're not a real friend, can't you see?
I'm sorry that we didn't talk
and I feel as if I hit bedrock,
you'll act nice
and i'll think twice
about letting you back into my life
when it's filled with strife.
but i'll fail and become sad
then i'll drive you mad
until you leave
and i'll greave
until august returns.

To travel from light to darkness takes but the instant to blink.
To return requires an unknown path and a light worth finding.

smoke gets in my eyes
wetness watering the ashes
I rub it between my fingers
there's nothing left
it dissolves into my skin
everything I had, gone
the fireman's hose
waters the flames
fires do as they must
from ashes to ashes
and dust to dust
life will reemerge
they say,
a small green shoot
bending towards
the morning sun
and my tears
will make it grow
it will become a tree
and I will become me again.