I Rest

Death came to visit but didn’t stay
make it familiar but you still have to go
this time was not mine but of a similar kind

Move the Clock

I hate what I do to move the clock
the cadence of my life set by the will of others
my pain comes from suppressing what I was meant to be

Color

Brown eyes sometimes blue, I surrender
drawn in but not mine to have, captivated
Look past me and I return to a lesser one, accept me in your smile

Born

No one ever asked to be born
life is the gift of choice to give
memories are made to be left behind

Untitled

Life’s cycle is a return, what’s new is old again, time moves on without you
retreat to where you are from, vulnerability of experienced youth
move ahead to the past experience discounted fast, evolutions price

Leave Without a Breath

travel with me beyond the end
shed the confines of what holds you hear
emerge your true self as you pass through

Our Final Memory

the final thought not to be kept
but could be the one that maters for what happens next
the chance to change is the weakened echo of ever last

Groundskeeper

Mow the lawn for those who come to visit
read my face from the words placed for me
tribute paid by the beaten path

Waste Nothing

Waiting until tomorrow was your mistake
promises of more sunrises were never made
what a I seek is what I had before, not what I have in store

Untitled

The final hands that reach to hold are strange uncomforting as cold as my own
blood take from my body replaced by something meant to sustain me
left vulnerable at my weakest left here prepared yet no longer complete