When I look inside, What do I see? No place to hide, Just me. Look at me, I am hidden. You can't see, The parts forbidden. What is Real, What is not? How to feel, About my thought. Can't you see through it all, Can't you help, lest I fall?
If we were having coffee, I’d say that it’s late and that I probably shouldn’t be drinking this as I raise cup to lip and take yet another sip. You would know that this is not the first time that I’ve indulged at too late an hour though, and tell me that I’ll be fine. And you’re probably right about that, by the way.
So, might I get you a cup of something? Coffee, tea, water, or juice? You may as well indulge with me, and follow me down the path of poor nighttime beverage decisions. Don’t worry, I’ll lead the way.
2017 is absolutely flying by. Weeks seem like days, days like minutes, and so on, and so on. I can say though, that the past week was a fairly good one as I did some of the things that I’ve been missing out on lately. Those things included writing a bit, strumming the ole guitar, running, and bike riding.
Sheets of rain, Across the roof. Hoping that, It's waterproof. For being wet, I don't mind. But in the proper, Place and time. Not in bed, Middle of night. Drips of head, Waking fright. For all things, A season. For that though, No reason.
Against the Wind
The winds of Time?
They forever blow.
We run against the Wind.
Not my normal #BadPoetryThursday, but perhaps just as bad. This is a small bit of free verse that came to me the other day while I was out on a bike ride, and it, unlike most thoughts I have while out running or biking, stuck with me.
The question remains, Why even try? For how can we reach, That far away sky? Feet planted in earth, Head in the clouds, All the world, Bringing me down. So what to do, And how to live, When we've got no more, Cares to give? Live the life. Don't heed to the haters. Every single day, Make it greater. Always remember the love you make, Don't let them, your life away, take.
Road weary, And still we run. Why do it? We say it's fun. Though it's hot, And oft we complain. We always come back, Is that sane? You tell me, Cause I don't know. Trails and roads, Off we go. Though one day I'll be on the shelf, As for now, the miles won't run themselves.
If we were having coffee, we’d be in the Starbucks, so instead of me offering you what I have, you could just pick from the cornucopia available to us tonight. Go ahead and pick something. Don’t worry, I’ll pick up the tab. As luck would have it, I put a fresh $20 on the Starbucks card just the other day.
Settled in? Okay then, let’s talk a bit.