I'm sorry little Love Bug,
I mean that, I do
I'm sorry you felt
What I had to do, for you

You see, you don't need me
Honest, you don't
I'll just make your heart bleed
And believe me, it'll hurt

So let go of my gaze
Stop opening your heart
I'll set this ablaze
Once and for all

The hurt will cease
I promise you that
So smile, little Love Bug
And don't look back

Home is where the heart is
This, we all have heard
But, as a die hard baseball fan
Home is ninety feet from third

You're told you're always safe there
But know this much is true
You may not always be that safe
If the ball's there before you

You're parents say you are welcome
To come home any time
But, to diminish complications
Reach home before the end of inning nine

Home is where the heart is
It's the best place that you can be
But, it only counts if you get there
Before the outs reach three

Home is fixed it never wavers
It's where you start and will end too
But, how you make it back home safely
That last ninety feet is up to you

Have you ever had a hair day
Where things just won't go right?
You looked okay last evening
And not bad late last night

You wake up and it's frizzy
Kind of going everywhere
It's like someone took a cattle ****
And then they  ran it through your hair

You comb it down and it gets puffy
Even worse than from the start
You look again, you've got an afro
And you can't even find the part

You gel it up and instant *****
You look like mafioso ****
You now choose to go *******
And you use gel as thick as gum

You look like an unwashed Donnie Brasco
Hair all limp and full of grease
But at least it's not all puffy
You've lost the part but have a crease

You wet it down and nothing happens
the water beads on all the goo
You choose to go and have a shower
In fact you choose to go have two

The only reason that I wrote this
I tell the truth, this ain't a fib
It's just that when I woke this morning
I looked the same as Barry Gibb

What's with all the sadness?
What's with all the grief?
What's with all the broken hearts,
That cannot find relief?

I know this world has sorrow,
And often beats you down,
But why dose every poet seem,
To always have a frown?

Do they never see the beauty?
The wonder that I see?
Instead of death and chaos,
Can we get some harmony?

The sky may gray in winter,
But summer turns it blue.
And though pain plagues the best of us,
We have to push on through.

So what's with all the sadness?
what's with all the grief?
I see the world with gladness,
And that's my firm belief.

I'm drumming my fingers
on the outside of the car.
Keep your hands busy, Charlie.
Don't let them wander across
the space between your seat and hers.

You've got this smile
poised on your lips
like a mousetrap.
Tense with hesitation
and a million neurons
firing thoughts through your head
that I'll never get to know.

Light up that cigarette, Charlie.
Keep those hands busy.
Let your eyes wander.