Sun does tickle his dreams on the blazing pave
when pass by him countless feet honking cars
fires don’t burn him nor do elements make him slave
upon him the street dirt is powdered stars.

In the luxurious cushions bed is a veritable thorn
sleep defers or visits not eyes’ awakened nightmare
men burn power to being breathing to the morn
while his eyelids at dreams’ wonder gapingly stare.

There’s a kingdom carved by him where gods don’t reign
a few picked crumbs magically brew metabolic bliss
fairies stir laughter misty angels wipe out pain
the moment his head the concretes kiss.

It isn’t hunger that in his deepest bowel gnaws
but a gratitude not battered by existential flaws
for being gifted a mind broke free sanity’s laws
be just there amid rush an island of pause.

I got gapingly stare at her face
Admiring her boldness
And her grace

With the Summer Sun beaming down
I would love to reach your crown
The destination
Is just the journey's reflection

Of the slopes I have climbed
Of the views I saw go by
Of the flowers sent so sweet
Of the icy, snow 3 feet deep

And this uphill battle I will not stop
Until I have reached the very top
Not until I could see

All that could have been