The vultures hoped for a death
As the snow filled the road
And I
Standing by
Watching it unfold
Dare I contribute to their happiness?
Dare I provide them with their next meal?
The vultures remained hungry
We could not close the deal
Tag: poem
Average
“You must be rich!”
Said the little boy
“You have a house all to yourself
You get water on command
And your house has lights on even during the day!”
I replied unimpressed:
“No, I’m just an average American.”
Heal
Breathe deeply
Hug a tree
Listen quietly
To the passing breeze
Touch the earth
Feet bare
Peace and health
Is waiting there
You but need to let it in
For your healing to begin
Source Unknown
The meaning is lost
The tracks are fading with the rain
The world doesn’t know her name
Yet she lives
In the meaning they assign
The words get redefined
The prophet becomes a poet
Writing notes
Passing time
And forgets her real power
After all
It’s rare to empower
A child with a pen
Channeling the source within
So they cite her teachings
As source unknown
Forgotten
She wished for a fallen angel
Curious for how it would feel
But we were all angels
Before we fell down here
She must be an old soul
Many reincarnations ago
She forgot to remember
What her newborn already knows
Cheap
She had nothing left to give
Not of her body nor soul
Drained
She could give no more
But a smile
As faint as it might be
A smile
That’s all he needed to see
Never had they known
A medicine
Made of a smile so small
And a healing
So cheap
Thief
I’ve learned to become a thief
Stealing time
Rearranging their reality
To better fit mine
Shattering glass that claimed to be a mirror
Redefining truths
For all to see clearer
That I was taking back what was mine
That no one is allowed to steal my time
Any longer
Vultures
The vultures were hunted down
No one left to clean up the dead
Bodies filled the ground
Blood hasn’t dried yet
No one left to grieve
To pray
Or to mend
The heart that was broken
Right before the end
The Dad’s Superpower
The little boy had great hopes
He saw what his dad could do
The little boy had a sure smile
As if he absolutely knew
His dreams
No matter how big
Have a way of coming true
The Girl
The little girl
Grew up to be
A little strange
Hungry for change
And for new places to see
The little girl drew her own maps
Wrote her own books
Created her own reality
The little girl hated their sanity
And the boredom it brought
She often thought
If it has been done before
No need to do once more
And so she carved a brand new world
Stranger Paths 