A bird

A bird in the dust ruffles its feathers happily.
For there’s nothing at that moment in time, that that bird would rather be doing.
  For its happy just to be flicking dust through its feathers.
And if left in peace it may even stay for quite some time.
    For this bird is so free in its ways.
And even as people walk by it, it does not care.
For it just keeps on with its fun in the dust.
  And it’s good to see something finding pleasure within something so simple.
When all around it has changed.
For that bird at that moment in time.
  Must have been as rich as the richest man.
Even though it had nothing more than dust.

A mask  is something one wears to hide what’s inside.  
As a smile shows on the outside tears may be falling within.
Then when danger is present bravery is shown but fear is really felt.
A mask is something worn to hide one from prying eyes for some time alone.
  A mask is something one wears to hide everything behind.
   Unless one wants to show others what one wants them to see.
But sometimes it may take others to look through the mask, to see the true feelings and person beneath.
For we all wear a mask of our own sometimes.

Leaving this day for a dream, time to be lost into the night.
Leaving  the clock on its own to march through time.
While  hoping  to be lost from it.
Not wanting to grow old.
No fun is there to be told.
Moving closer to that of which is unspoken.
Still waiting for a dream to wake up into reality, instead of leaving as day brakes.
Only to be left again within the hands of time.

Sometimes in my head.
No peace from noise of thoughts running through the silence unknown.
Waiting hoping for once just once,
too be all  but nothing.
Letting silence take its toll.
Escaping in its splendor till the next day of tangled thoughts.

Time such a through less thing.
As it moves along at a steady pace all of its own.
Not knowing what's going on within itself.
Or what is yet to happen.
Only knowning what has happened.
Good times go fast bad times slow.
But no matter what may happen.
Time can not say what is to happen in our lives.
Only we can make our time good or bad.
Time just keeps us moving towards our destiny.
For as long as our time may last.

Love for a moment “unjudged” yet not untouched.
For the last piece a long lost piece of a puzzle near complete found at last.
  For a connection made so strong that it would seem like two links of a steel chain coming together.  
   Bound in time never to be broken.
Or a moth as no matter where it is in the dark.
It always finds the light as to be attracted to it with a deep desire.
    And to dance with it as if it has danced with it all of its life.
For love is more than just a feeling it’s knowing and connecting with that someone.
For when it’s right love is like a key to a door turning a spark into a flame that burns bright.

Taking a breath of air and drawing life from it.
  Like the ones gone before it.
For like petrol to a car keeping an engine running.
  A breath of air keeps us moving.
Yet who knows we’re the air comes from, and where it goes after we’ve taken it?
  For like unspoken words that are just a thought.
These two are neither seen nor heard.
Yet giving without taking a breath of air brings life to all who breathe it.