Stop to listen,

Stop to hear.

The world, it speaks,

In a tongue I am not quite familiar with.

And some say that it is all just a myth,

But how can you think that the wind does not speak to you?

Or that the clouds can portray the morning time blues?

Listen with your heart,

It’s waiting to be practiced like that of any art.


Power Over the Horns



It’s something we all really go after, but not all of us achieve.

Reign by monarchs,

Chains for slaves.

Does that equate to power?

Or does it mean that some over tower while the rest of us cower?


I’ll take this bull be it’s horns,

But I will do so with a crown full of thorns.

Should’ve, Could’ve, But Didn’t…


While I’m waiting at the bus stop,
Listening to tunes,
I can’t help but see you,
Crying, looking blue.

I keep to myself,
Don’t want to intrude,
But inside its all a guessing game,
As to what to do.

In my mind, scenes play out like a film.
A girl and a guy,
Happily in love,
Until one day she tells a lie,
And he gives her a shove.

Or maybe she’s just down on her luck,
Lightning surely struck.

And while I play the guessing game,
I don’t see the signs.
A crash brings my mind back to frame,
To see her dead, bloody, on traffic lines.

I blame myself,
Hate myself,
For not asking her what’s wrong.
I blame myself,
Hate myself,
For knowing the ending to this song