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One day I hope For 50 years 50 years Blood sweat and tears It's beautiful to me That you've come so far Side by side Each battle each scar I can't imagine
Aspiring for that certain ideal vision which one day i will Achieve. Achieved; something is missing. Something: disillusionment Something: discontentment Something: worriment
Holding you firm while opening a birthday gift Only five years old, with Plenty of high expectations for a firetruck. It’s Everything that you could’ve imagined,
I am different. Not in visage, nor style, nor walk, Not in avocation, nor mannerism, nor talk, But in hope and dream and state of mind. I am different In that The radioactive waves of lies
Dancing in a ring of fire Hoping that your dreams aspire But the drive down the road Is one you'll make all alone All of your wishes and hopes One day you'll climb all the ropes
FROM MY YOUTH COMES GREAT WISDOM. FROM MY YOUTH COMES OUR FUTURE. FROM MY YOUTH COMES STRENGTH. FROM MY YOUTH COMES POWER. FROM MY YOUTH COMES SOUL. LIFE, BEAUTY, AND LOVE COME FROM THE ROOTS OF MY YOUTH.
What is a life? Measured in the days, milestones? We rent the time on this earth, so we measure in love. After death a life only continues in memories. You will be forgotten if you are “idle”.
These hands do all of the hard work in this life
i admire the crayons for no matter how you push or how hard the pressure they'll pick themselves up and cling to their other i admire the crayons for when in times of stress they melt together
Teach meTell meExplain to me the significance of your systemAn A, a B, C, D, FTeach me the meaning of your systemminus ten, twenty, thirtyTeach me the meaning of it all.
The script extracted from our minds within the confines of a classroom that is not poetry the feelings artificial the meaning absent it is that of mindless amateur literature
"Hey! Remember me?No?Come on! Don’t you recognize me? Your best bud since that quiet scary night in 93. You were just a babe, remember, sleeping in the dark? When I swept in like a clever snake and crept into your heart.
Writing a poem is a grand expression Of the man I am and the one I want myself to be Words become lines, lines become poems, interconnected like brush strokes in a painting or the individual notes of a favorite song These words that capture my hea
Time enchants her victim, begs me near to sharp being…Wraps round frail shoulders as she tickles porcelain cheek.
Someone once asked me the question, “What are your fears and your dreams?”
It's too hot, It's too cold, I'm tired, I don't want to go. All excuses to escape and hide from your fears and failures but what is really the thing
Sometimes its good To know what you want in life To have a direction And a purpose in living But then again It burns inside And brings tears to your eyes When that vision is threatened
She aspires to be brilliant A bright and shining star She'll change the world With her dreams unfurled And hope in her heart