Something about immortality fascinates me!
But I realized that I don't need science or cryogenics,
Because when this flesh is finished,
I'll still have these words I wrote living.
When I leave this life,
I'm gonna leave behind,
The fruit of this eccentric mind!

My candle is my motivation
Because I am often in the dark
I stare down at the feeble fire
And get lost within my art

On days when the sun is hard to see
And when I’m lacking fire within
There is my candle shining still
A tiny flame that never dims

For hours in the dark I write
Crouched next to the bitsy blaze
My candle fuels me to keep going
In hope of brighter days

God made a garden just for me,
And He filled it with pink and purple peonies.
In this garden He said I'll never grow old,
I will thrive in a field of the brightest marigolds.
Where I will play and dance like a kid,
I'll be wild and free just like the native orchids.
In this garden all will be bliss and tranquil,
And my soul will rest amongst dazzling daffodils.
This garden grows above where the stars twinkle,
And is beaming with bees buzzing past periwinkles.
In this garden there will be no serpents who tease,
Only streams decorated with laughing lilies.
In this garden that I'll soon call my home,
There will be pink and white baby cleomes.  
Up in the sky beyond where eyes have seen,
There is a garden God made and it's waiting for me.

you've heard about the rose,
that grew from concrete,
it learned to walk,
without having feet.

funny it seems,
we forget about the rose who,
never got the chance,
to keep his dreams.
or a chance to
breathe free.
like the rose who succumbed underneath
all of life's adversities.
like the rose who was shot,
by a force of unjust police.
or the rose who fell victim
to generational poverty.
or the rose who was born with a
serious disability.
or the rose who came from a
long line of broken families.
or the rose who felt the effects
everyday of inequality.
making it harder for him
to spread his great leaves.

lets not forget,
about the rose who couldn't,
rise and beat the concrete,
and whose body lies underneath the concrete,
lets not forget
about the rose who couldn't rise from a crack between,
the concrete.

why do we say the sky is blue,
when it's not always that way?
the sky can be red, purple, black,
green or gray.
why do people say i'm a happy person?
when i'm sometimes frustrated, tired, or drained,
but usually i'm just blue.

She's so strong like Hercules,
When she sings her song you'll feel free,
Here's the sun rising for me,
That's what it feels to be with she.

She's gentle like the summer breeze,
Very cool she's the bee's knees,
She may fall like autumn leaves,
But she'll get back up like the trees.

She's colorful like flowers in the spring,
She's wonderful like a rose amongst the weeds.
She'll keep you warm in a winter freeze,
And lives with only God to please.

Beautiful like you've never seen,
The beauty I hope to see,
My friend across the seas,
The one and only Lealice!