maybe the flowers will bloom
she spoke
but flowers die
i kept silent
i saw them wilting
and felt
their rough, dry leaves
crackling and cracking
like stale bones left from ***** bodies in the soil
they remain
next year
she said
next year we will get better rain
to wash away the tears i thought
i thought
i thought you were better
she sighed
i knew there was no better
life is hopeful
life is worth it
i know
but no one knows. Anything.
is it a flower or a ****
she asks
who are we to say
i am a root in the way
where you want daisies
i destroy the ground
i block the way
dig me out
dig me out

As autumn trees all shed their leaves,
I’d like to place them back
One by one, and watch the sun
Who fears the moon’s attack.

He’s chased all day and finds a way
To hide his light at dusk.
‘Til farmers wake he takes a break,
Then flee again, he must.

Time goes fast and seasons pass,
My friends, I wish you luck.
I watch the sky, the moon goes by;
I think she’s catching up.

We see each other everyday
not saying the words we need to say
how long do we have to be this way?

I hope she was worth
The pain you put me through
I hope she can hold you closer
Than when I wrapped my soul around you
I hope she can make you smile brighter
Than when I made you laugh
I hope she can sing to you sweeter
Than when I sung your name
I hope her words have more meaning
Than when I said “I love you - always and forever”
I hope that she never makes you feel pain
The way you claim I made you endure
I hope when you see her –
She’s all that you want to see
I hope she was worth it
I hope she was worth all the tears
That I shed for you
After you left me for her

The first sip of warm coffee
On a cold fall morning,
While leaves are changing,
And others are falling;
The birds are singing the morning lullaby,
And there's a cold breeze coming in from the window you never fixed.
The sun is just barely rising,
The sky a hue of orange and purple;
The time of day when you really appreciate everything,
And don't worry about anything.
Those are my favourite kind of mornings.

I looked at it critically
Was it red enough, plump enough,
Will it be juicy still?

Will it live up to its promises?
Nobody wants a dry peach.
I'd better leave it, I thought.
God knows what it will be like.

And then it dawned on me:
This is a peach in September.
Grab it, eat it - as quick as you can!

For this is September,
and peaches are rare in December.