This life is a constant search,
For answers to find,
Sorting the why’s and wishes, not by choice,
That were left behind,
Those gears are always turning,
In my mind.
The road is only paved, one breath at a time,
Tomorrow may never be,
Just a dream, in your mind.
There is a dead-end, sign, for each of us,
It’s not far around the bend,
Keep your pedal to the metal, and
Never pretend.


The Original: Tom Maxwell © 7/7/2020

You arrived in this life, with an open hand,
Everything to learn, no direction or plans,
Never knowing, what you will find,
Around the next turn, someone you never expected,
Is your true best friend, and those you thought,
Were so cool, we’re looking at you to burn.
As a child, everything so entertaining,
That enters your mind, then you learn, to separate,
What is good, and what will lead to binds.
Everything grew smaller, as you started standing,
Higher, on your feet, Your dreams started expanding,
As you planned, on reaching the tallest peak.
Dreams do come true, some you never even realize,
A different, person, time, and place, than the original vision,
That came to you. Always plan, look ahead a few years,
The material world can be fun, many end up with empty hands.
None of us know, until our last, how many we will have till our final day,
Angels and your spirit will guide you, to help lead your soul to perfection,
The only part of you, that will travel on, after this life’s stay.

The Original: Tom Maxwell © 7/22/2022 AD
4:20 am

Almost one-third of my life, I have been an author,
I never think of myself much that way,
Interesting thoughts flow, I print with a pencil in hand,
What, inspires me, I never start with an exact plan.
Writers, deep thinkers, and prophets, always related to the past,
They are among us, some reading this could be, delivering,
Messages, that will forever last.
They would have a special personality, able to mix with,
All types of people, depending on the situation, are capable of,
Delivering the messages, in many different ways, leaving,
Inspiring information, to others, they may use, will repeat,
While pondering about the impression, that was made,
For the rest of this life’s stay.
Society is hanging over a cliff, through ads, and many other ways,
Creating minds, that money, is so much talked about,
Altering how people think, they refuse to listen, or even believe,
Unless a famous rich person or money is in the conversation, some way.
Think about your thoughts, the messages you receive, and hopefully
The answer will come, for the original plan, and
Peace On Earth Will Be.
The Original: Tom Maxwell © 7/7/2022

Time can go slow
Time can go fast
Time can be good
Time can be bad
Lose track of time
Take extra time
A great time
A special time
A fine time
An early time
A regular time
A late time
Equal time
Run out of time
Never enough time
Time disappears
No one’s time in this life
Will forever last
This may be your last time

The Original: Tom Maxwell copyright

6/18/20AD

A feeling that you can never totally explain,
Often confusing, although it always remains,
Often changing, from soft to smooth, to moments,
Of going insane. A business venture, working,
For common long term, goals, those involved,
Must share, and accept, give and receive, while,
Often switching to different role’s, often seeking,
Solutions, from within the soul. A project that needs,
Constant team work, and repair, along the way,
Enjoyment, a caring nature, emotions, are more reward,
Than any monetary pay. From patience, to times of hurry,
On any day, dedication, determination, resolving,
Issues, accepting behavior, just a short list, if you want,
Love in your life to stay.

The Original: Tom Maxwell © 6/17/2022 AD
!:32 pm

As the morning sunlight rises,
In the East, behind my back,
To start this day, lighting everything,
The warm rays, touch along their way.
A few hours later, the dark nimbus cumulus clouds,
Start to cover the sky, blocking  the sunlight rays,
From my eyes, after a few rounds of thunder,
Raindrops start falling to the ground,
Nothing in its path stays dry, as the wind,
Starts blowing the falling moisture around.
The darkness continues to increase,
Looking towards, Schooley’s woods,
The white and yellow honeysuckle, I could normally see,
Across Maxwell’s creek, hiding in darkness, the only,
Light for a landmark, a lone light on, Schaubert’s bridge,
As I look downstream taking a peek.
The rain will slowly fade,
The sun will light the rest of the day,
The water in the creek will flow under the bridge,
Downstream on its, way.

The Original: Tom Maxwell  copyright 5/19/22 AD
2:00 pm

Organizing our travels, subconsciously,
Or with intent, we confuse our own mind,
Different, ideas, plans, changing directions,
While not forgetting, the what if’s, and whys,
With the, I knew better than that, or I know,
I just can’t think of it now, I should have tried,
Now thinking about it, their story, was a big lie.
Then we head out in the world, acting like were,
Confident having life figured out, our **** together,
Knowing nothing last forever, soon clouds will form,
Drift our way, thunder, rain, called stormy weather.
Oh, we cannot forget the guessing, experimental,
Ideas, we are all inventors, on different days, then,
The story to praise our self, and often exaggerate, lines,
The final thought, we all have experience, answers come fast,
If things do not work out, like that simple picture, in our mind,
The three W’s, who, what, or why, messed it up for us, this time.



The Original: Tom Maxwell © 5/18/22 AD
11:00 am