When you look at a person

What do you see?

Their body, their eyes, their faults?

Do you become jealous

If they look “better” than you?

Do you start to hate them

Without them having a clue?


When you listen to a person

What do you hear?

The voice they were born with

The accent they grew in to?

Or do you judge them

For being “smarter” than you?

And decide not to listen

Without them having a clue?


When you touch a person

What do you feel?

A life of hard labor, ease, or disease?

Do you hold their hand

And wonder if its worked at all?

Does your heart become petty

And decide they’ve never known “hard” work?

Do you write of their accomplishments

Without them having a clue?



When you left I was down

I was broken and alone

I tried to find the light

But the dark felt so good


Recovery took time

Which I didn’t have

I gave up on trying

Because loss wasn’t too bad


You’ll see me tomorrow

A ghost of who I was

And pretend that are paths

Have and never will cross


You take a breath

Pray it gets you through

You hope today

Is not like before


You want to be

A different person

You wish and dream

Of happy tears instead of childhood fears


You want to sleep

Without the demons

You want to live

Without the feelings


You want to go

Without a plan

No return date

Or road map


Just leave the world

Far behind you

Leave the past

And all who knew you


Start all over

Try again

Pray today

Is not the end.


She can’t remember happy days

Before real life got in the way

The memories of people lost

Have left a hole within her heart


Shadows gather on her face

The smile is tight around her eyes

The steady beat within her chest

Is growing weaker by the day


Her mind is far from lasting peace

Which she left so long ago

The time is wearing at her grace

Each day she’s left more worn


Perhaps some day she will look back

And long to fix her past mistakes

For now she’s drowning in her ways

Lost within a haze of pain


Her spirit pushes at her now

Begging for a chance to change

She does not listen to it though

Much too little, far too late


The blood is rushing from her wrist

The bottle of her happy place

Lies empty on the floor

The rope is ready, taunt and high


The end is here, a choice to make


Survival of the fittest

The kill or be killed world

Only the strong survive

And the weak all die


So what are you?

Will you fight for your right to breathe?

Will you give up and let death take you?

Is life even worth fighting for?


What do you desire?

A “happy” life

With spouse and child?

A “good” job

With a large dollar size?


Or will you dare to dream?

To shoot higher than before

And wish to be a poet?

Or artist, even if poor?


Will your life be more than average?

More than 9-5?

Will you dare to do more

Than just survive?