It

.

w

a

s

.

wintertime,

–

–

when

.

t

h

e

.

barren

echoes

.

o

f

.

loneliness

cried,

–

–

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

ruthless,

–

–

unforgiving

skies

.

o

f

.

bitter,

–

–

chastising

winds

.

a

n

d

.

cold-hearted

ice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

shivered . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

shivered

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

lie . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

a

t

–

–

–

it

.

w

a

s

.

for

me

.

t

o

.

decide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ that

.

i

t

.

was

.

f

o

r

.

me

.

t

o

.

decide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

hide

.

a

.

life,

–

–

using

words

.

t

h

a

t

.

were

.

n

o

t

.

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ to

hide

.

a

.

life,

–

–

without

considering

.

t

h

e

.

reasons

why . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

created

.

a

.

n

e

w

.

design

.

w

h

i

c

h

.

mimicked

.

a

n

d

.

rhymed . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

created

.

a

.

n

e

w

.

design

.

w

h

i

c

h

.

fit

.

s

o

.

well,

–

–

within

.

t

h

e

.

coloring

.

b

o

o

k

.

lines . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

shivered . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

shivered

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

lie . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

a

t

–

–

–

it

.

w

a

s

.

for

me

. 

t

o

.

decide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

.

time,

.

.

w

h

e

n

.

.

carefree

fun,

–

–

play,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

laughter

.

w

o

u

l

d

.

fly

.

s

o

.

free

.

a

n

d

.

carelessly . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ so

free

.

a

n

d

.

carelessly

into

.

t

h

e

.

exhilarating

highs,

–

–

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

promise

.

o

f

.

sunshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ a

sunshine

.

w

h

i

c

h

.

would

smile

.

w

i

t

h

.

a

.

warmth

.

s

o

.

wide,

.

.

f

r

e

e

.

.

spirits

danced

.

w

i

t

h

.

joy,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

cartwheeled

.

a

l

l

.

across

.

t

h

e

.

summer

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ they

danced

.

w

i

t

h

.

joy,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

cartwheeled

.

a

l

l

.

across

.

t

h

e

.

summer

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

now

.

i

t

.

was

wintertime.

Reflection: This was a melancholy-themed poem that I wrote back in October of 2014 where the contemplator looks back with regret on living a life within the tight confines of societal norms just to fit in. We get the feeling he or she will never be happy living in that fashion – because living an authentic, “true to yourself,” kind of life – independent of what others think, believe, or try to convince otherwise – is the only way to truly be happy.

There

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

.

place,

–

–

where

.

t

h

e

.

patience

.

o

f

.

time

walked

.

a

.

slow

.

a

n

d

.

steady

pace . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ there

once

.

w

a

s

.

a

.

place . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

did

.

n

o

t

.

rush,

.

.

b

u

t

.

.

never

.

f

e

l

l

.

behind,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

the

.

d

a

y

s

.

seemed

.

t

o

.

s–t–r–e–t–c–h

.

f

o

r

.

miles

.

a

n

d

.

miles,

.

.

a

l

l

.

.

the

while . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Clear

.

f

r

o

m

.

chaos

.

a

n

d

.

clutter,

–

–

were

.

t

h

e

.

pages

.

o

f

.

my

mind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

warmly

embracing

.

w

a

s

.

my

heart,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

accepting

were

.

m

y

.

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Engaging

.

w

a

s

.

my

smile,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

gentle

.

w

a

s

.

my

style . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

towards

others

.

b

a

c

k

.

then,

.

.

I

.

.

c

o

u

l

d

.

never

.

b

e

.

unkind,

–

–

without

considering

.

t

h

e

.

price . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

yes,

.

.

I

.

.

have

.

n

o

w

.

come

.

t

o

.

realize,

.

.

I

.

.

once

lived

.

a

.

wonderful

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

filled

.

w

i

t

h

.

laughter,

–

–

rhyme,

–

– 

fun,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

sunshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

lived

.

a

.

wonderful

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

filled

.

w

i

t

h

.

laughter,

–

–

rhyme,

–

– 

fun,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

sunshine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

back

in

.

t

h

e

. 

youthful

paradise

.

o

f

.

joyous,

–

–

carefree

. 

d

a

y

s

.

gone

by . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ back

.

i

n

.

those

times,

–

–

when

.

I

.

did

.

n

o

t

. 

judge,

.

.

o

r

.

.

cheat,

.

.

o

r

.

.

lie . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

apologize.

Reflection: This was a forgotten reflective-themed gem of a poem that I wrote back in October of 2014 where the contemplator looks back with remorse on a life which started out so wondrously free, carefree, and easy only to reverse somehow without his/her awareness – it was likely the result of small internal and external changes which accumulated over the years and decades. The end of the poem offers an intentional twist which sharply contrasts and conflicts with the rest of the poem.

There

.

w

a

s

.

only

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

shy

behind

.

t

h

e

.

smile,

.

.

I

.

.

once

knew

.

a

s

.

a

.

child . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

the

warmth

–

–

felt

good,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

love,

.

.

i

t

.

.

did

shine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

l

l

–

–

–

across

.

t

h

e

.

valleys

.

o

f

.

my

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

although,

.

I

.

w

a

s

.

distant

.

a

t

.

times . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

still

.

w

a

s

.

kind,

–

–

offering

words

.

o

f

.

hope

.

t

o

.

those

.

temporarily

blind,

–

–

offering

.

a

.

beam

.

o

f

.

sunshine,

.

.

t

h

e

.

.

lost

.

m

i

g

h

t

.

find . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ offering

.

a

.

beam

.

o

f

.

sunshine,

.

.

t

h

e

.

.

lost

.

m

i

g

h

t

.

find . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Forgiveness

.

i

s

.

easy,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

acceptance

kind,

–

–

when

.

y

o

u

.

realize,

–

–

everyone

.

i

s

.

a

.

child

.

t

h

a

t

.

gets

lost

.

a

t

.

times . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ everyone,

.

a

.

child

.

t

h

a

t

.

gets

lost

.

i

n

.

life,

.

.

f

r

o

m

.

.

time

.

t

o

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There

.

w

a

s

.

only

.

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

shy

behind

.

t

h

e

.

smile,

.

.

I

.

.

once

knew

.

a

s

.

a

.

child . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

the

warmth

–

–

felt

good,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

love,

.

.

i

t

.

.

did

shine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

t

o

–

–

–

the

.

d

e

p

t

h

s

.

far

behind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

 ~ removing

.

t

h

e

.

blindness

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ easing

.

t

h

e

.

worries

.

f

r

o

m

.

the

mind . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

you

began

.

t

o

.

dance

again,

–

–

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

wide

.

o

p

e

n

.

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

joy

.

y

o

u

.

gained,

.

.

a

l

s

o

.

.

became

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

there

.

w

a

s

.

only

.

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

there

.

w

a

s

.

only

.

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

there

.

w

a

s

.

only

.

I . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

shy

behind

.

t

h

e

.

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ shy

behind

.

t

h

e

.

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

once

knew

.

a

s

.

a

.

child.

Reflection: This was a inspirational/hope-themed poem that I wrote back in October of 2014 in reflection of where even the slightest warmth, kindness, hope, acceptance, patience, and forgiveness can change two lives at the same time – theirs and yours; even if only for a moment, an hour, or a day. Because every form of warmth and kindness you offer to others, comes back into your own via the shared experience. So, do this. And do it often.

It

.

w

a

s

.

dark,

.

.

b

u

t

.

.

then

.

it

.

w

a

s

.

light . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

was

.

n

o

t

.

wrong,

.

.

b

u

t

.

.

wasn’t

.

q

u

i

t

e

.

right . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dipped

.

m

y

.

toe

into

.

t

h

e

.

eye,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

told

myself

.

t

o

.

fight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

t

o

l

d

.

myself

.

t

o

.

fight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

to

resist

.

t

h

e

.

slide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

the

storm

.

d

i

d

.

smile . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

storm

.

d

i

d

.

entice . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

that’s

what

.

g

e

t

s

.

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

each

.

a

n

d

.

every

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

g

e

t

s

.

me . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

each

.

a

n

d

.

every

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

because

.

e

v

e

n

.

though

.

i

t

.

tells

.

m

e

.

everything

will

.

b

e

.

alright . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ everything

will

.

b

e

.

just

fine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

this

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

y

o

u

–

–

–

know

.

h

o

w

.

much

.

I

.

like

.

t

o

. 

wine,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

dine,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

dance

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

lie . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

like

.

t

o

.

dance

.

w

i

t

h

.

the

lie . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dance . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dance . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

l

l

–

–

–

hours

.

o

f

.

the

night . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dance . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

dance . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

until

daylight

.

o

p

e

n

s

.

her

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

close

.

t

h

e

.

blinds . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

close

.

t

h

e

.

blinds . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

close

.

t

h

e

.

blinds . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

close

.

t

h

e

.

blinds . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

.

.

.

I

.

c

a

n

. 

dim

.

t

h

e

.

light,

–

–

which

reminds 

.

m

e

.

of

times . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

m

y

.

life 

.

w

a

s

.

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

reminds 

.

m

e

.

of

times . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

m

y

.

life 

.

w

a

s

.

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I 

.

h

a

d

.

a

.

mind

which

.

c

o

u

l

d

. 

clearly

decide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

had

.

a

.

mind

which

.

c

o

u

l

d

. 

clearly

decide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

before

.

I

.

f

e

l

l

.

hostage

.

t

o

.

the

twisting,

–

–

turning

tides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

before

.

I

.

f

e

l

l

.

hostage

.

t

o

.

the

twisting,

–

–

turning

tides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

before

.

I

.

f

e

l

l

.

hostage

.

t

o

.

the

twisting,

–

–

turning

tides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

h

a

t

–

–

–

bring

.

t

h

e

.

lows . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

bring

.

t

h

e

.

highs . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

dip

.

m

y

.

toe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

begin

.

t

o

.

slide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

dip

.

m

y

.

toe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

begin

.

t

o

.

slide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

dip

.

m

y

.

toe . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

begin

.

t

o

.

slide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

t

o

–

–

–

the

storm

.

w

h

i

c

h

.

smiles.

Reflection: This was a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in October of 2014 where the affected party likes to flirt with temptation and repeatedly gets drawn into the depths of the darkness and chaos it brings – being addicted to the “ride.” It seems this will be a lifelong, all-consuming struggle and that the affected party will never be able to escape the forces of temptation, addiction, compulsion, and distraction. The struggle can represent any temptation, addiction, compulsion, or distraction type: drugs, alcohol, sex, gambling, obsessions, etc.

You

yearned . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

yearned . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

so

.

m

u

c

h

.

more,

–

–

when

.

y

o

u

.

first

.

s

e

t

.

the

course,

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

those

.

distant

shores . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ for

those

.

distant

shores

.

o

f

.

regret

. 

a

n

d

.

remorse . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

yearned . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

yearned . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

so

.

m

u

c

h

.

more,

–

–

back

when

.

y

o

u

.

stored

.

s

o

.

little

gratitude . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

what

treasures

.

y

o

u

.

held

.

i

n

.

the

days

.

o

f

.

before . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ back

when

.

y

o

u

.

knew

.

y

o

u

.

were

.

n

o

t

.

confused,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

felt

.

s

o

.

sure

.

y

o

u

.

might

find 

.

t

h

e

.

fix . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ you

might

.

find

.

t

h

e

.

cure . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

somewhere

behind

. 

s

o

m

e

.

secret

door . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

.

.

.

I

ponder

.

whether

.

y

o

u

.

will

yearn 

.

y

e

t

.

more . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ will

.

y

o

u

.

yearn 

.

y

e

t

.

more . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

someday . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

somehow . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

your

future

.

becomes

.

t

h

e

.

now . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ when

.

y

o

u

.

finally

discover

.

there

.

i

s

.

no

doubt . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

.

w

a

s

.

all

.

j

u

s

t

.

a

.

spinning

house

.

i

n

.

the

clouds . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

spinning

’round

.

a

n

d

.

’round . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

end

.

o

v

e

r

.

end . . .

–

–

–

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

up

.

a

n

d

.

down . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

.

w

a

s

.

a

.

spinning

house

.

i

n

.

the

clouds

.

o

f

.

doubt . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

ponder

.

whether

.

y

o

u

.

will

yearn 

.

y

e

t

.

more . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

ponder

.

whether

.

y

o

u

.

will

yearn 

.

y

e

t

.

more . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

when

.

y

o

u

.

someday

discern

.

within

.

t

h

e

.

whirling

blur . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

that

.

a

l

l

.

the

glimmer

.

y

o

u

.

were

searching

.

f

o

r

.

sparkles

upon

.

t

h

e

.

distant

shores . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

sparkles

.

upon

.

t

h

e

.

distant

shores,

.

.

o

f

.

.

the

.

d

a

y

s

.

that

.

c

a

m

e

.

before . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

causing

.

s

u

c

h

.

rush

. 

o

f

.

regret

.

a

n

d

.

remorse,

–

–

that

.

y

o

u

.

madly

race

.

t

o

.

reverse

course,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

yearn

.

f

o

r

.

those

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

yearn

.

f

o

r

.

those

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

yearn

.

f

o

r

.

those

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

You

yearn

.

f

o

r

.

those

days . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ for

the

.

d

a

y

s

.

that

.

c

a

m

e

.

before . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ for

the

.

d

a

y

s

. 

that

.

c

o

m

e

.

no

more.

Reflection: This was a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in October of 2014 where the affected party likes to flirt with temptation and repeatedly gets drawn into the depths of the darkness and chaos it brings – being addicted to the “ride.” It seems this will be a lifelong, all-consuming struggle and that the affected party will never be able to escape the forces of temptation, addiction, compulsion, and distraction. The struggle can represent any temptation, addiction, compulsion, or distraction type: drugs, alcohol, sex, gambling, obsessions, etc.

There’s

.

n

o

.

need 

.

t

o

.

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There’s

.

n

o

.

need 

.

t

o

.

hide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

.

I

.

a

m

.

always 

.

b

y

.

your

side . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Don’t

.

b

e

. 

surprised

.

i

f

.

I

.

try . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ if

I

.

try

. 

t

o

.

inspire . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ if

I

.

try 

.

t

o

.

hold 

.

y

o

u

.

high . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ if

I

.

try

.

t

o

.

wipe 

.

t

h

e

.

tears 

.

f

r

o

m

.

your

eyes . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

you

.

m

i

g

h

t

.

see

.

t

h

e

.

same

sunrise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

.

s

a

m

e

.

sunrise

.

t

h

a

t

.

I

. 

see

.

s

o

.

clearly

.

i

n

.

time . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

.

s

a

m

e

.

sunrise

.

warmly

embracing

.

y

o

u

. 

in

your

.

n

e

w

.

future

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

s

o

–

–

–

will

.

y

o

u

.

allow

.

m

e

. 

to

.

b

e

.

your

guide ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ will

.

y

o

u

.

allow

.

m

e

. 

to

.

b

e

.

your

guide ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

that

.

i

s

. 

the

purpose

. 

o

f

.

my

life . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

shine

.

t

h

e

.

light

. 

w

h

e

r

e

.

darkness

resides . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

reveal

.

t

h

e

.

warmth

behind

.

c

o

l

d

.

disguise . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

t

o

–

–

–

lift

heavy

.

spirits

high

.

i

t

t

o

.

the

skies . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There’s

.

n

o

.

need 

.

t

o

.

cry . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

There’s

.

n

o

.

need 

.

t

o

.

hide . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

.

I

.

a

m

.

always 

.

b

y

.

your

.

side.

Reflection: This was an inspirational/hope-themed poem that I wrote back in September of 2014 in honor of those special people I know and encounter in my life that I seek to continually uplift, encourage, inspire, and guide so they can live a happier, brighter, more fulfilling life.

It

.

m

i

g

h

t

. 

almost

.

s

e

e

m

, 

a

.

comedy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

f

–

–

–

not

.

s

u

c

h

. 

a

.

tragedy . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

forces

.

t

h

a

t

.

saved

.

y

o

u

.

only

.

months

before

.

f

r

o

m

.

self-destruction

against

.

t

h

o

s

e

.

storming

shores,

–

–

became

.

t

h

e

.

very

hostility

. 

w

h

i

c

h

.

drove

.

y

o

u

.

back

.

t

h

e

r

e

.

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

drove

.

y

o

u

.

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

drove

.

y

o

u

.

back . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

It

drove

.

y

o

u

.

back

.

t

h

e

r

e

.

again . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

n

t

o

–

–

–

that

very

.

s

a

m

e

.

stirring,

–

–

whirling,

–

–

rage,

.

.

o

f

.

.

the

storming

hurricane . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

hurricane

.

o

f

.

guilt,

–

–

blame,

–

–

abuse,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

shame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Do

.

n

o

t

.

cry,

.

. 

a

n

d

.

.

do

.

n

o

t

.

despair 

.

m

y

.

fearful

friend . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

your

.

h

o

m

e

.

remains

where

.

it

.

h

a

s

.

always

been . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

someday

.

y

o

u

.

may

return

.

h

e

r

e

.

again.

Reflection: This was a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in December of 2013 where the affected party going through a difficult time sought comfort from family and friends by reconnecting with them and working to maintain those relationships – only to have them turn against him/her making things much, much worse. This poem was inspired by true, heart-wrenching events.

Were

.

y

o

u

. 

the

friendly

face

.

i

n

.

that

crowded

place,

.

.

o

f

.

.

those

spinning

years

.

o

f

.

haste ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

subtle

hint

.

o

f

.

familiar

joy

.

a

n

d

.

warmth,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

warmth

.

a

n

d

.

joy,

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

joy

.

a

n

d

.

warmth . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ just

a

.

friendly

hint

. 

o

f

.

something

familiar

within

.

t

h

e

.

stampeding

parade . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ within

.

t

h

e

.

stampeding

parade

.

o

f

.

lost

yesterdays . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Did

.

y

o

u

.

smile

.

a

l

l

.

the

while,

.

.

o

r

.

.

was

.

i

t

.

merely

.

t

h

e

.

reflection

within

.

m

y

.

mind ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ the

linger

.

dancing

within

.

m

y

.

eyes ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

i

t

–

–

–

matters

not,

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

I

wear

.

i

t

.

tonight

.

a

s

.

if

.

i

t

.

were

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

wear

.

i

t

.

tonight,

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

I

like

.

t

h

e

.

design . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

like

. 

t

h

e

.

warmth

.

o

f

.

wine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ yes,

I

.

like

.

t

h

e

.

warmth

.

o

f

.

wine

.

b

y

.

candlelight . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

Were

.

y

o

u

.

the

friendly

face

.

i

n

.

that

crowded

place ?

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

.

I

wear

.

i

t

.

tonight

.

a

s

.

if

.

i

t

.

were

mine . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

wear

.

i

t

.

tonight,

.

.

f

o

r

.

.

I

like

. 

t

h

e

.

shimmer . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

.

.

.

I

like

.

t

h

e

.

shine.

Reflection: This was an inspirational/hope-themed poem that I wrote back in December of 2013 in reflection of how just the slightest warmth, smile, or kind gesture can put into motion positive forces that uplift, encourage, inspire, and create happier, brighter surroundings, and a happier, brighter life overall. Always remember that all you put into the lives of others, comes back into your own – and get into the practice of living in this fashion.

Some

people

love

.

t

o

.

play

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ that

game

.

w

h

i

c

h

.

seeks

.

t

o

.

entertain

.

w

i

t

h

.

words

.

t

h

a

t

.

maim . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

i

t

h

–

–

–

words

.

t

h

a

t

.

shame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

w

i

t

h

–

–

–

words

.

t

h

a

t

.

aim

.

t

o

.

humiliate . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

crowd

.

feeds

upon

.

every

flame . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

The

crowd

.

feeds

upon

.

every

grenade

.

o

f

.

bitterness

.

a

n

d

.

hate . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

.

t

u

r

n

.

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

t

u

r

n

.

away . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

f

o

r

–

–

–

although

some

.

m

a

y

. 

love

.

t

o

.

play

.

t

h

a

t

.

game . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

would

.

rather

fade

.

f

r

o

m

.

places

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

kindness

.

n

o

.

longer

reigns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ I

would

.

rather

fade

.

f

r

o

m

.

places

.

w

h

e

r

e

.

love

.

h

a

s

.

forgotten

.

h

e

r

.

name . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

I

.

t

u

r

n

.

away.

Reflection: This was a forgotten reflective-themed gem of a poem that I wrote back in September of 2013 in reflection of not only those who routinely engage in senseless gossip and create drama – but also those that participate and do nothing to defend or protect the targets of such attacks.

It

was

.

m

y

.

way

.

o

f

.

saying

.

without

words . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

 ~ it

was

.

m

y

.

way

.

o

f

.

showing

.

beneath

.

t

h

e

.

blur . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

b

u

t

–

–

–

the

words

.

remain

unheard . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the

meaning

.

undiscerned . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

leaving

.

t

h

e

. 

words

.

t

o

.

stir . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

the 

images

.

t

o

.

merge . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

s

–

–

–

the 

haunting . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

taunting . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

lost

opportunity

.

burns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

turns . . .

–

–

–

.

.

.

a

n

d

–

–

–

burns.

Reflection: This was a personal struggle-themed poem that I wrote back in May of 2013 where the affected party seeking some kind of reconnection or reconciliation cannot find the words or actions needed to bring about a successful resolution. And he or she remains haunted by the lost opportunities for making this happen.