The Outside, Wondrous World
The world outside is a wondrous place,
Filled with many miracles to see.
It's a place to hear and smell and feel.
It's a place so unfettered and free.
The world outside is a wondrous place,
Filled with many miracles to see.
It's a place to hear and smell and feel.
It's a place so unfettered and free.
In the damp, dusty cellar, surrounded by boxes,
Our excitement just grows without measure.
Searching and sorting with loud shouts of glee,
As we uncovered the grand Christmas treasure.
My words are like my heart beat.
They tell the world that I'm alive.
They recite the tale of who I am
And of all I have survived.
in Aging Poems
Will I slowly wither like a leaf
That falls upon the earth?
Once void of all its Autumn hues,
It loses all its worth.
The moon reflects the fallen snow
And makes it light as day
I lay awake upon my bed,
As the clock tick tocks away.
How do you measure success in this life?
And who should decide if you fail?
Do life's sweet temptations guide you along?
Or in the end does your conscience prevail?
When I was young and insecure,
And desperate to be liked.
I tended to withdraw in pain
And flee instead of fight.
Our political views mean nothing,
There are no sides to take.
Both young and old must be prepared
To fight for all our sakes.
How do I cope with the shame that I feel
And then look you straight in the eye?
And how do I claim to stand for what's right,
Then accept disregard for your lives?
in Brother Poems
It seems it's been a lifetime
Since my brother went away.
I long to see him once again
And relive those cherished days.