Regrets and Redemption- by Abraham Montalvo
I used to be looked at like one of the greats in your life and mines, forgive me for I made so many mistakes, that I'll take to the grave, for the sinner I am, forgiven by the blood of the Lamb, given a second chance to be redeemed by God's own two hands, nailed to a cross, for each and everyone to remember the win and the loss, I was a hero at once, a fool the next like I said I have my regrets,

Sitting in a club filled with ****** galore thinking oh my God what have I done? and who am I to become! hurt the two of us the most, felt like I destroyed it all, this is coming straight from my heart, months I ago I would've pleaded insanity, drinking myself into depression led me to darkest point of my life,

Trying to find love and comforting words from others still can't find my way back from this hell I was in, demons coming at me, temptations straight got me, seeing my life being taken from the enemy within, my soul feeling ultimately lost forever to an end, until Jesus told me, spoke to me and said my son I have never left you instead come back I love you! For ever I knew you since the birth from your mother's womb I loved you, even from the breath of life I gave you! here's a chance to take again my son I want you! This promise I'll keep, I shall never fail you!
Opened my heart once again taken this path of this test been the hardest walk, but overcoming is the main objective, sinner I am forgiven, given another chance to make it all rewritten for the future to come make sure all will be forgiven and freely given...
Make things right, move forward in life God will continue to Bless you my brothers and sisters, main objective is eternal life.™

There’s a garden filled with lilies and roses,
Dancing to the swift, musical breeze,
That surrounds the plentiful, beautiful aroma
Of the summer air.

My heart is thumping so loudly;
I find it difficult to consume oxygen.
It is a necessity, yet I struggle,
Like a person trapped inside a tight shut coffin.

The birds are so lovely,
They sing and chirp to the rhythm of sound,
That seems to echo and bounce,
From the caves not so far off.

I see too many colors to capture in one;
There are yellows, greens, browns, and blues,
That command my attention in this summer day,
For the beauty is too great to try to ignore.

I’m at peace, filled with tranquility,
Or so I say to myself as I watch with dismay.
I’m a walking lie, yet I feel nothing,
But I feel everything all at once.

The confusion is too great,
But the emptiness is there,
Not allowing me to think,
Not allowing me to be the creator in me.

Is this how it feels to lose all hope?
Is this how it feels to lose sympathy?
This may as well be why some choose drugs,
Instead of the high gained through excitement, you see.

There’s a girl who gives a ****,
She plunders down the road.
So boldly she is free to be,
That her life became her destiny.

The dragon, the witch, the soul mate,
Ceased on scene so desperately.
She cries and mourns like a flying beat,
Of rhythm trapped in an icicle.

She dreamed of lovely possibilities,
But her dreams were just fantasy.
The male she yearned for,
Was no more than false protrude.

This guy was just a friendly face,
And so he viewed her as a simple dude.
She tried so aimlessly,
To grab his shinning sight.

She knew she could be free,
But she lacked bravery.
The girl took a leap and fell like a sheep,
Into the ground with no retreat.

She could not form a connection,
Between her and him.
She failed and failed,
Until she realized there was a bond, all along.

She was not meant for him;
He was not meant for her.
They were meant to be,
Not soul mates, but tight knotted friends.

Find a Poet Not a poser, not a "it's just a hobby" poet. Find one who mumbles lines as they scramble for a pen at breakfast; who shakes their head randomly when their thoughts aren't rhyming properly;  who has notebooks stashed around the house that you must never touch.
2. Listen Savor the spoken words, for those are harder to express. Keep in mind that they can't be edited and re-written, and be forgiving when a mistake is made.
3. Read The body speaks as loudly as words on a page do. When their eyes are closed or focused on the ceiling and the fingers are tapping out syllables, recognize the unique process. Respect the need for quiet, because if you look closely, you can read the poem on their face before they write it on the page.
4. Write Write your story together. Grab hold of the pen and hang on as you move across the page of life. Sometimes you will dance across, others you will be dragged. You may have to cross out a word, or a line, or a page, but don't give up. Discouragement is a poet's biggest enemy, inarticulateness their biggest fear. So end each day with a semi-colon, because the story will never end the way you think it will, and there must be room for more. There is always room for more, more words, more laughter, more tears, more love,
When you love a poet.