He was blown>>>>
>>>> away_--- from
my lace-up
Is She his blue
Mood tie set any bet
to walk the talk

At your own pace
The lustful wake up she
got the face

The edge of his rim sneaker
So prim who is proper
On the brim of ecstasy
He puts sugar on my tongue

Rumors like the "Talking Heads"
All in the bedding sneaker
Jane of the jungle wild tongue
She races Tarzan swinging sneakers
You and I tripped over dreams the sneaker?
Lip to lip disaster

The "Cyberwar" stepped on melting
Gold *** of tar
The loud blaster she moves the
Starwars so far

He could eat her up
his checkered black and white flag
Like a lobster claw his last draw

The racer mouth sponsor

She was born 2-B that way
sneakers love 3 some run
It's not unusual to have fun
with anyone
Her hands were far gone but
solid as a rock
Rollicking flying his rocket
Racing by her own clock Ms. Hornet


His sneaker loud love feud one
the detail on her sneaker
the wild bird of a bud

He shook me all night long
don't do an
A-C-D-C  on me
The sneaker he got the
Crazy eights
 No prank calls
Her hot buns and
Speaker- Frank-flirters
take me out to the
ball game demonized

The Anti Christ be born again
My sneaker group what a tank full
The Antitank no thanks
You cant always get what you want
and if you try sometimes
Charge all plastic but
sneakers like rubber soul

Visa hot runner Lisa no control
The American Express abdominal press
Shop until she drop's gum-drops
Your head was like a
Rolling Stone Jagger
Bigfoot sneaker Friday 13 size
That girl sweet pea Lea surprise
In the Hell, kitchen she snapped
That purr nightcap like Cleopatra

He's the Mantra so passionate fruit loopier
She's the Mona Lisa unfriendly sneaker
Your happy socks are quick
On his bell-hop feet
The sneaker riddle beat


That long meeting so *******
For time baby blue eyes Frank
on the mic
Like the jitterbug tight-knit
as sneaker print rug
Citron sharp eyes 5 Karat
Spicy hot Chili pepper
poem sonnet

The singer swung
Jazzy sneaker band
Dr. Who wears sneakers drinking
Dr. Pepper

The "Red Apple McIntosh" computer
Such a loud mouth hacker Josh
Jeweled Judy cultured pearls sneaker smash

Or her Stairmaster her
sneaker hotties ruffles have ridges
The juicy burgers dill pickles

Desperately sneaking Susan
sneakers to her affair finish line 
What a Lady Madonna
baby sneakers
at her breast rebel of hearts
I wonder how she manages to
sneaker speed the rest

Her best to out twin any talk
bullseye power walk
Buying the triplex sneaker
The loud talker 4 for 4 fame Wendy
Run like a fugitive your alias
name
Go International quite run
for your money I suppose
His sneakers up on her recliner
It wasn't her better rose
She's the high boot lady ever finer

On E-Bay selling your favorite sneakers
Those Australian Huskies biting sneakers
Such a Paws up against doggone heartbreaker

The in-crowd Flynn or another runner Lynn
Everybody is not a star or wedding crasher
Or even the right sneaker lover

Lady that lives in her homeless shoes
Are we all inside a video game
all commercials

Needing bifocals video begins
 Wynn at Sneaker Con
Joy to the world of the joystick
The sneaker of the Torah prayers of
the Temple
All dots and specs out of sneakers
More zits and pimples
I just want one-half cream
The changing Moon 1/2 Wolf
My man (Mr. Drakar) Howling toenail

French onion soup say cheese
her sneaker what a
no-brainer lightheaded breeze
You come so far sneaker trainer
And a grave site plot famous
brand sneaker
name

A million odds to one name in the
cemetery
****** Mary she flies in her
sneaker like Mary Poppins
Going under the influence
Heres looking at you kid umbrella

Hot Hollywood Taurus Bulldog
runner
We really don't have a name

We are writers and ****
good fighters single to mingle sneaker
Not the homewrecker more like the homemakers
Even sneaker has a voice and walks like singers
Shoeiverse sneaker race
became her living curse
The grin of the Grinch green sneakers
On his sled ride the lucky shamrock

I'm the happy heel
The tigress furry feel skip to my Lou
he ordered the
kids happy meal

Getting a ticket for reckless walking
Lights on or eyes wide shut
Are sneakers running for their life?

More fuel- time we get no alone time
Let's go shopping for the
new sneaker called
(Valentine only) sold one
day the sale
Singing her sneaker song a chip
device to talk back hot male
The 'Calvin Klein" dockers her ball of the foot
tennis sneakers It's her loud Owl ******-hoot

The farm girl Ralph Lauren corral
To rope her in lasso-like with morals
racing horse of different color fashion
I cannot hear you I have a hell
of a tinnitus reaction

  She-Devil bickering.>>> No heart like a sneaker
I am a snake too short to run the mile

I was too busy looking
at her long legs
On the Jet** Plane
The most popular lady
in her sneakers 

Viper car and strings attachments
Ms. Love lace the shoelaces
with hearts
She is tied to his ankles
like condiments
Like Sweet cherries what a
bomb kicker sneaker
The Southern Belle runner
Be the stunner the trucker roadrunner

Hail to Mary the sneaker
Queen of Sheba
Turn on the radio Country singer Reba
What a sneaker rating ratio

When she bent down the crisscross
Watch out cross my heart trainer

Cross my heart and hope to die
To get slimmer
I am the happy sneaker
all the moods hot goods
(Hey Robin Hood)
stealing a rich man and poor women
which is the witch

One string said pull me the
other one said you feel like a
Chrome lead sleepy feet go to bed

Like Beer and pretzels
What an insane sneaker hazard
Hospital beepers sneaker virus
stepped on the most expensive
Venus, I beg you to run
lips we travel bullets and stars
We just want some fun

Marathon key just one clicker
That strawberry shortcake
Versus the "Cherry Bomb"
The Prince and the Pauper
what a toad kisser
That army tanker hurry up
lunch or brunch
What a Patriot Brady bunch

My shoelaces became like a
firecracker candy bar crunch

Who is the loser lover
or the winner
The long trip almost at the end
of the race
What a rivalry those shot glasses
at random
The sneaker fandom

Smile to me if you're not
wearing anything
but sneakers
My wings the wifi cute feet just
say Hi

No, I saw a man 600 pounds
of Reebok gold way too
much belly roll fat
The Dr. Seuss cat in the hat

Nike in the air Robin
bird skydivers
Dark matter gold diggers
Movie (It) Stephen King
skateboard

Penny feet relaxer
The Wise clown got her
The sneakers comedians
Seinfeld stand up sneaker
To be dead or wed Kleinfeld
Exotic sneakers and
cars he made a home run
Hot hell ring my bell
You made me happy
I got to first base

And you all sync into
one of a kind sneaker
Mom Robin the singer
No, I saw a man-eating
out of his sneaker
His head up in the Nike air
Oh! all hell breaks footloose
computer looking
up the sneaker sales

All I am doing is clicking
with a mouse
Where is my lover
sneaker twin, my spouse

Reba-roo I’m missing you
as hard as I can miss
I gave you lots of pets and hugs
And sealed each with a kiss.

Black and grey and white are you
All trimmed with silver and gold
The longest and the softest fur
Spectacular and bold

A queen are you, with regal stance
Your noble pride is clear
The purest lineage you have
And wear it well, my dear.

Your head held high with deep brown eyes
Your tail sweeps the sky
You leap the mountains in a bound
And with the birds you fly

Then softly tho I call your name
You instant come beside
I know you’ll never leave my heart
In memory you reside.

You came to us a stranger
Confused in your new world
So many things you soon would learn
Your puppy brain just swirled

But gradually as time went on
You learned your new role well
A family dog you must become
But whose? We could not tell.

Then suddenly one special day
We went out in a crowd
A family saw you, fell in love,
And called your name aloud.

Jacki stroked your glorious coat,
Peter drew your face
And little Emma stood beside you
Basking in your grace.


It soon was clear, you told us then
You found your place, your home.
You have a family to love
No longer will you roam.

Your sweet and mellow giant heart
Devoted; always true
Now spread your love (just like your fur)
Protect your family new.

My furry heart, devoted dog
We had to let you go
You have a wondrous life ahead and
You’ll do well, I know.

hearing it reminds me of home
the child in me smiles at the sound of it
a name that died a long time ago with her
bring it back for the happiness it inspires in me
for the memories it brings out of me
the name that has a place in my heart
even with its country drawl
I love it more than you can imagine
reba

Music is my Muse
From the funky jazz tempo
To the sounds of salsa
From the classical rock
To the alternative basses
From the Opera Lady's bellow
To the Tenors solo
From the 80's slow jamz
To them 50's swinging bands,
To them country folk songs
To those old folks blues
Music is my Muse,
My inspiration,
Being Black&Puerto; Rican
I- A NuYorican,
I've heard the best tunes,
Bahchata's & Merengue,
Bailes La Cumbias,
Like Macr Anthony &
oh how he sang to me,

My wanting
to rock with you like
Micheal Jackson-
To Vanilla's
Ice Ice Baby,
It's yo thang do what you wanna do,
Candy coated Rain drops
By Soul For Real,
& When will I see you Again-
Babyface
Until I muse
in my amusement
When Tim McGraw  
Sanged don't take the girl,
Reba "Asking Does
He love me like
he's been loving YOU",
To its my prerogative
Like Bobbi Brown said,
Let not for get
Johnny Cash,
Or what About them
O'Jays
Yeah my muse is musical-
Music and thinking artfully
coincides with one another,
with breathing and  eating
Rhyme & Rhythm linguistics
even as we walk down the street
or cruising
while jamming in ya car,
LL Cool J said Cars drive
by with the booming Systems-
AH Push it was
My jam back in the day
R&B; Was mostly what I liked
But growing Up
I started listening to
Rock & Hip Hop,
Got drunk off those sweet
Monster Ballads
while Making love
to Sade,
Sung All Cried Out
at my graduation party,
Tony Toni Tone
Made Us-FEEL GOOD YEAH
at all them block parties
back in NYC,
Now
I listen to everything
going on 33
heard it through the grape vine
that YOU share
a likeness in this Musing?
Music is My Muse.
Always Me Ayeshah

As Reba McIntire says,
the heart is a lonely hunter.
but the lonely sea is its spear
So we go and dive into the sea
seeking to ride out our loneliness
till we hunt no more with our heart
In other words, at least here in America
we have a phrase like
from sea to shining sea in one of our songs
God Bless America
Loneliness is a state of mind
where we're fooking for a sign
to explain the times
as if the line in the cave analogy
of Plato's Republic
represents a fife and death matter
for alf of us
all the time
(not that all of us know about Plato)
and house the loneliness.

I saw you in the hallway,
With all of your friends,
And everything around me moved in slow motion,
The girls think I'm crazy,
I kinda agree,
But it's hard to be cool enough whenever you look at me,

And I can be immature when I'm lying on the floor,
Photoshopping us together like I'm all yours.
But you just learned my name,
And I think that's kinda wack,
Have you seen my sweet shoes and my new backpack yet?

Somebody tell you why this hurts so bad,
Why can't I find someone like my dad, (I love you dad)

Why can't you just see what I see,
When you say I'm just a friend, you tell me I'm just friend,
I think I could make you happy,
But you say I'm just a friend,
So I'll be that
But I don't wanna be just that,

You probably think I'm too young to feel this way,
To you I'm a crush that just won't go away,
So even if you move on and have a happy life,
I promise I will pray for you, 'cause I'll be doing fine,

See I can try to be mature like nothing's really wrong,
But you probably know I'm faking by the time you see this
And I don't mind saying how I feel, as long as I stay true and keep it real,

Somebody tell you why love takes so long,
I think I'll just watch Reba with my mom (yeah)

Why can't you just see what I see,
When you say I'm just a friend, you tell me I'm just friend,
I think I could make you happy,
But you say I'm just a friend..

I'm not into Tim Mcgraw.
And might never be.
I'm not even into Faith Evan although country is a vital part of me.

Some might say, I'm missing a lot.
It's just not country music to me.
But acts trying to be rock stars.

Now, name the Statler Brothers or Mel Tillis.
Or Loretta Lynn to Reba then you talking directly to me.
I was country long before the change.

Can name legendary acts that others stars can't name.

Marty Robbons, Roger Miller and others isn't hardly mention today.
Unless someone's doing a tribute act to them.
But these was artist that contribute to the country music today.

They might have worn glitter suits and played guitars.
And yes, some probably was too conceited to be a true star.
I was country long before the change.

I remember Dolly singing upon the Porter Wagoner show.
Yes, long before she had her own personal show.
I even remember those artists Waylon, Willie and others being called outlaws.

And I guess this is when this field beginned to change.
Still I was country long before the change.

But in truth nothing ever remain the same.
We all must accept growth.
Simply for the facts it brings a growth to us.
Even if I'm listening to Carrie Underwood and that Jason dude.

Ed came to stay when she was 12
No one invited him.
He snuck in through the sliding door,
for the girl who needed some sense of control.

He told her he would help her,
he would always be her friend.
Self-control was what she needed
And he’d teach her all the tricks.
Move your food around,
bring it to your mouth,
then ask about your sister’s day.
It was their little secret
and he’d teach her how to keep it.

So he lived inside the mirror,
fostering disease.
He showed her a reflection
but it wasn’t really hers.

Ed came to stay when Reba was 12
But he didn’t just come for a visit
He grew stronger in the hollows of her sunken cheek,
and the jutting of her narrow hips.

We found Ed six years later,
When zeros became double zeros
And weak legs gave way on the sixth step
Six years and we hadn’t noticed
Ed carving out her rib cage and collar bones
Until there was nothing of her left.
And just Ed.

When I rested
my head
on your
shoulder
I should've
told you
how much
you mean
to me,
I don't want
you to be
just
another girl
who got
away.

It's a saturday evening. I'm sipping a cold redbull and *****, talking with a loved one. When suddenly one sentence, one look, one change in tone, and all the puzzle pieces fall together. But it all lacks one, do I have my father's eyes?

October 21st 2017.
This is the day I found out, I do not know my biological father.

Let's rewind back to June 25th 1993 roughly 7pm, I was born.
This is the story I was told from that day forth.

In September of 1992 my dad met my mother through mutual friends at a party, he said she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He knew he had to pursue her, for weeks she told him no, he wasn't her type, but he gave it one last attempt with two Reba McEntire concert sometime in October. At first she said no, but my grandmother insisted she atleast give the poor boy a shot and go. So days later she reached out to say she would go out with him. Little did she know he had already sold the tickets thinking she wasn't going to go. But, being the persistent ****** he is, he picked her up anyways but took her to a friends house get together instead, they slept together that night and I was concieved. Now this last part was only revealed to me at age 12 when I started to put some pieces together, but in my head I was just busting my mom on Pre-Marital *** which felt great towards a mother who was so over controlling I wasn't allowed to date until 17 years of age, and I mean so much as a Co-Ed birthday party. She knew where I was 24/7/365 and if she didn't all hell broke loose. But to get back on topic. My parents fell in love, mom soon realized what an amazing man he was and then shortly the found out they were pregnant. They decided to get married on December 26th 1992.
That was my story.
Rather, that was the one they delicately fabricated by the people who's sole life lesson to me was, Honesty was the most important thing in the world.

Fast forward to age 14.

I find out my mother is having an affair, physical proof. To be honest, she did not hide it at all. My father worked all over the US, hotel to hotel for up to 3 week at a time. When he was gone, she was gone.
"I'm going to the grocery store and to run an errand and then I'll be home. What do you want for dinner?"
"The boys want sonic and a chocolate milkshake sounds pretty **** good."
"Alright, I'll see y'all in a little bit."

....
3 days later.
Her car is halfway parked on the curb, halfway slanted in the driveway. It's running and the lights are on, I wake up around 7:30, get the boys breakfast, I've already called dad worried but he assures me she is just probably with a girlfriend and will be home after we're in bed. He ordered us pizza to be delivered with his card. I proceeded to call all jails and hospitals just to check. I know she's most likely ****** up, with another man or worse hurt or dead.
I hear something and go outside to check, I see her. In the car passed out. I pull her out, no response. She's breathing fine but obviously not ******* waking up. I'm scared. I try to pull the car out of the street. It's parked like ****, but out of the road. I couldn't drive stick but it would do.
I put the boys in their room with a movie and some yogurt "Breakfast in bed & Veggietales. Our little secret". I drag her up 2 flights of stairs. Into the bedroom, the bathroom and into a tub of ice water. She comes to but just ask for water and where she is.
I lay her to bed with water, a trash can, warm towel and bell.
I tell dad and he says to just let her hang out, she's just hungover. I think wow, hangovers are gnarly.
2 days later, she's fully coherent, begging for forgiveness. She promises to never do it again. Unsurprisingly, she would break that promise consistently forever the remainder of my life.
She was with a man named Eugene, coked out. At a ******* doing ecstasy. The product, a pregnancy of a mixed child. Which I only add as an important role in, my father being Caucasian, it would be well known. But she leaves him, comes clean to dad and he says he will raise the child. Believing her when she says it's a very small chance, a one night stand. A mistake and most likely the child was indeed his.
She lost the child. A few months later.
She broke.

I don't know if any of that is true now.

Fast forward to 16.

She's openly at it again. For months she's seeing an old high school fling. He lives there when dad is gone. I tell my father everything, text messages, pictures, grotesque even.. all of the evidence and it ends the same as always. He's mad, then she's mad, he apologizes, begging for love and forgiveness. She successfully manipulates him and then the wrath is on me.
She's pregnant again.
This time, she denies it all to him. It's his child. It's his child.
My beautiful little brother is born.
And now I know that not only do I not know mine and everyone else truly knew, he too will not know. And I don't know if I could break his heart. This man is trash.


Fast forward to 24.

We're talking about my parents, my mom. How everyone knows Jacoby's father is not dad. But he is in denial.
I laugh.
"Ya know, I wouldn't be surprised if my father isn't my biological father."
....
He did not laugh.
"Britt.. there's always been a conspiracy but no one really knows. But no one thought you could handle it, or they feared your mother's recoil."

........
It doesn't sink in. I get home. And I rack my mind over and over. Where do I start? Who do I ask? Why didn't they tell me? Was he bad? Will I ever know?
...
Could he love me?
Do I have his eyes? I've always wondered why mine were different.
My smile, its huge. Does his radiate the same way?
Is he kind?
Would he want to know?
Do I want to know?..

Yes.
The hunt begins. I give into impulse and call my Mimi, moms' mother. She sighs long and hard and I know. It's true.
All she can tell me is it was a short lived fling, an attractive young man, a few years older than mom. Tousled blonde curls and the most beautiful blue grey eyes. MY eyes.
His name is Michael. He was from Marietta. And lived in Hughes Springs at the time. No last name. No job known. Not where they met. Mutual friends. Just those three things over and over.
Michael.
Blonde curly hair.
Blue eyes.

It has to be.
Facebook, classmates.com, high school records. I drive to Hughes Springs a kind retired teacher keeps the small town library open an hour later for me to review yearbooks. 1987-1994.
Two matches, but it's still not much to go on. I need proof.
I call uncle, grandparents I haven't had a relationship with since childhood. Not one extra bit of information is found.
Except this, the father that raised me. He knew, I was not his.
So what do I do now?
Somehow get DNA from my father and pay hundreds of dollars to test it?
To get proof that he's not?
I can compare blood types..
But who's to say they will tell me the truth?
Will they ever tell me where I get my eyes?
I'll lay in bed all night long, staring into the abyss, trying to find a way to find you.

...to be continued..

Boy with the long dark hair,
****** hair that accentuates your smile.
The only guy I've ever met that has Reba on their playlist.
I let out a happy sound, and you grinned up at me as you packed a ****.
When we all went to that wedding I got to see you in a suit, and smell your cologne and oo-wee.
You looked better than the groom.

My grandmother died when I was 13, she was the only grandparent I knew the last one…
I remember at her funeral everyone was crying,
I hated myself for not being able to cry.
By then I was numb, I was a victim of child ****** abuse and I didn’t even know it but I felt every bit of that nothing if that makes sense.
I remember how my entire family looked at me like I was crazy for not crying, I was immediately judged as the official crazy one.
I remember while the churchy part of the service started I went outside to smoke a cigarette from the pack I stole from my uncle.
Any kid would’ve been terrified to be found with an actual lit cigarette at that age,
As I stated before I was numb I really didn’t care.
The following years until now, I am still numb.
Middle school was interesting,
I ended up enjoying ditching but I’d always ask my teacher for my homework anyway.
Even though I spent most of my time in the hills on the walking trails behind my school I still passed 8th grade with straight As and a 4.0 GPA.
I got bullied like any kid did, actually shoved in lockers, beat up in the bathroom by Mrs Gallegos’ history class.
Met some friends of course, by then I was good at playing happy.
High school was full of adventures,
I joined the JROTC & they recommended that I go to West Point,
I was athletic, captain of the raider team(that’s the JROTC physical fitness team) captain of the drill team and the color guard. I excelled there.
I was battalion commander by my sophomore year, in charge of the entire class for our Army Inspection where they came to see if we were in tip top shape,
That year we had the largest battalion in Bobcat history, and I was in charge.
My sophomore year ended and summer began,
That was the summer my mother wanted me to have a boyfriend so of course I wanted to gain her love & favor I dated one guy.
He ended up ****** me in the back of his best friends bronco at the county fair.
I turned 15 that cool summer…
15 & pregnant, I was terrified.
I never told anyone, I had to go back to school and I wanted to continue to be involved in JROTC.
So what did I do?
I punched myself in the stomach repeatedly , that wasn’t working so I ended picking a fight. (Yes I know what you’re thinking Why Didn’t You Just Get Help! At the time, I learned that I don’t get help because there’s nothing wrong with me at all or so my mother always told me. I had to figure it out on my own because of what people would think of me, yes definitely don’t ever do this because it was ******* stupid of me but I didn’t know any better)
I picked a fight and let myself get pulverized,
It worked.
I didn’t realize that the hell I would go through mentally physically emotionally after that miscarriage…
After that I was truly never the same.
Looking back now, that’s when it all really went downhill.
I shut down, everything didn’t matter.
But I had to play the part of being a happy kid so once again the mask.
Junior year I didn’t care for school so I never went, didn’t even care about JROTC anymore.
A girl came into my life, we dated.
We became the most popular couple in school, everyone knew who we were.
We ran smokers corner, bought a car and ditched with the money we made from selling cigarettes.
My mother found out I was dating a girl and dragged me out of the car slamming my head on the ground which led me to the hospital to get stitches for the **** on my head.
I moved in with my girlfriend at the time,
That was when the suicidal thoughts really started kicking in.
That was when I started pills, drinking & partying.
We broke up 2 weeks after I dropped out of high school because i found out she started cheating on me when I left.
I moved back with my parents and the physical violence never stopped because I was gay.
The suicide attempts, trips to the emergency room, rehab more suicide attempts and the glorious psych ward.
This was when I learned how to lie to get out of things.
I made even the therapists cops everyone believe the words I said.
Eventually I got away with a lot.
I just turned 17 when my dad slammed my head into the concrete floor of my house, my mother kicking me and my dad pinning me on the ground,
All because I came out of my room to get a water and apparently I rolled my eyes.
I remember tasting blood and looking out of my left eye was like looking out of a red window, I used all the strength I had left to get out of that pin.
I remember barricading my room with the dresser I had and calling the police.
My mother beat me to calling the police, she told them I was assaulting them,
But once Officer Largo arrived on the scene and saw no bruising or any sign of assault on them he asked me through the door, that was literally keeping me alive, come in my room if he could come in.
That’s when he took me into the bathroom,
I looked in the mirror and saw the reason why that look of horror was on his face.
My left eye was red, busted blood vessel, the blood running down from the left side of my head, busted lip that wouldn’t stop bleeding, broken nose. Bruised all over my arms.
He called for backup requesting a female cop,
Officer Benally saw the bruises on my back and and the scratches and bruises on my neck. The EMTS said I had 6 broken ribs, 3 of them never healed properly to this day.
I remember Officer Largo handcuffing my dad and my mom.
They were screaming in terror, truly acting like they didn’t do anything wrong.
I remember telling the cops over and over to let them go that I deserved this. It was my fault.
That was when I learned that I don’t have a say in my life.
I spent that week in the ICU.
No family came, my parents were in jail.
I didn’t have anyone, I sat in that cold room watching Reba on the tv eating my jello.
I snuck out of the hospital and ran,
It hurt like hell but I ran.
I hitchhiked home that was an hour drive away,
Broke into my own house found the keys to my car put clean clothes on.
Cleaned and waited.
They got home and acting like nothing happened only that they hated me.
I went to work like any other high school age kid
I was a little ****,
High or drunk all the time.
The rest is a blur until I got semi sober after getting my first DUI at the golden age of 17,
My mother continued hitting me throughout all this and I kept telling myself I deserved this.
I turned 18 and ran as many times as I could but always went back home.
The lesson I learned, I am nothing I am no one.
So **** it

I’ve got a few more things to say,
More thoughts have fluttered into my brain,
And even if it may be slightly trite,
I’m going to give you another piece of my mind.

How I adore the sound of rain.
Pitter-patter,
On my window at night.
However, when the rain gets on me,
I become the Wicked Witch of The West,
And start to melt.
The rain relaxes me,
Puts my ever-sprinting mind at ease.
Snuggled underneath the covers,
In my comfy bed,
Shows that even on the stormy nights,
There’s something to be thankful for.

My music taste has evolved,
As most everything else has,
I guess it was inevitable,
To broaden my horizons.
I was raised on Reba,
My mother made sure of that.
I’ll give credit where it’s due,
She’s a stunning singer,
And her songs touch the heart,
But I’ve found another,
Who, for me,
Fans the same spark.
His name is Alec Benjamin,
I’ve quoted his song in a poem once before,
Rarely can you find a musician,
Where every song you adore.
I haven’t heard every piece of art he’s created,
But from what I’ve heard,
They’re very relatable, meaningful songs,
Which are filled with impactful words.
He’s an amazing lyricist,
Who, to my knowledge, writes all his own songs,
Here’s a sample,
From a track titled “Hipocrite,”
Yes, titled just like that.

“It's hip to be a hipocrite, well, that's how it goes
Saying and portraying things, but only for show
They talk, throw rocks
Living in a mansion that they made out of glass
Always throwing tantrums, always getting a pass
All talk, they don't stop.”
And here’s the chorus:
“All these pompous fools,
With their broken rules,
And their noses in the air,
Keep pretending that they care.
All these stubborn mules,
Went to fancy schools,
But the only thing they learned to do is talk.”

Some of the music I like,
Doesn’t even have any lyrics at all.
Just a light somber melody,
To take me to serenity.
It’s in those moments,
Where my mind is clear,
That I treasure,
All I hold dear.

As much as I fear the future,
And which direction, of the countless, it could go.
I’d be lying if I said,
I wasn’t curious to see where it goes.
Where I’ll be,
Ten,
Twenty,
Thirty years from now,
Nobody knows.
On the bucket list,
Is to be invited onto a talk show.
Fate is uncertain,
That’s precisely why I fear it,
Yet, there’s a beauty to the undetermined.
Funny how that is.

I’m very impatient,
That’s a negative trait I’ll admit,
However, I understand,
That patience has its benefits.
Impulsivity leads to mistakes,
While patience leads to mastery.
Patience leads to understanding,
While impetuousness leads to travesty.
Waiting makes me feel,
That fleeting time is wasting,
We don’t have forever,
And our presence is always fading.
Yet, breathing in and out,
And taking a moment to rest,
Reconfigure, reassess,
Is the best form of reconciliation,
The body can get.

Another poem written,
A set of words said.
Another view of the world,
Hidden in my head.
Another random word,
To help me rhyme.
Another,
Piece of my mind.