5:30, 4:30 -
Up ever earlier.
40, 50, 60
Pages of the encyclopedia open.
All with tabs,
Of the many windows, pages, & folders.
Through the looking glass,
Roaming far & near as an extraterrestrial.

Love is as to a dry well,
The heart akin to the empty bucket.
I would be convinced that this is hell,
Had I not tasted of heaven.
Is this a shadow realm?
Like mirrors' reflections?
Is there someone like myself?
Aching & longing for one to reach out?
True in their intentions?

I draw on cigarettes,
Doodle with resin-
Blisters on my fingers,
They all think I'm playin'.
The colors brown & red
Are escaped when I shut my eyes,
And when I turn my face inside
I'm fine with what I see.
It's not dark, pretty light-
It's all clear skies,
Even with a chance of showers
There's always a sunrise.

How unrealistic the idealistic can be
And yet, there is still our commitment
To something far realer than any war-
When you realize it's what it's fought for.

I'm asking a question,
Yet, I already have an answer-
What is the purpose?
That the question isn't rhetorical
And that I seek your honest opinion,
Is it not to broaden my view?
In time, horizons expand
If the increments are spent
With the goal of understanding-
Otherwise, it doesn't mean a ****
And we're cursed to repeat again
That which we have already gone through.

It is out of great hate
Where it is so easy to find equal love;
For it is not my hate which I speak of.
Of the many desperate,
What makes us separate
Apart from perspective?
What keeps us from happiness?
That there is a difference,
You are measuring out the parts
And forgetting the sum.
That you choose to live in memory
And think not of the future,
Your race is already run.
Tell me, did you win?
And, if so,
What have you won?

Truly, as stated previously;
I hate nothing & I hate no one.
Dislike delight? Not I.
And what joy it is merely to be alive

That luck would so have it
And countless chain reactions
That I should be a human on this planet-
I can breathe easy staring at the sunset
As much as a sunrise.

Whatever twists, warps, & bends
I may experience;
They are all worth it
Just to exist.

When water condenses to vapors
We can curse the temperature
Or we can be grateful
For having had any liquid
So life giving.

So, life may be giving
And life may be taking-
That I strike out some balance,
It's always teetering.

Yet, I am still.