Well, this is depressing.

What good is a soul if it's not laid bare
daring the fates to crush it.
What good is a mind that's never shared
with thoughts and plans to nourish it.
What good is a life burdened with pain
without joy to balance it.
What good are words born from these things.
The writer inside, time to kill it.

Sounds like a good time.

Netless, I fly and netless I'll fall
alone onto concrete floor.
Thought about taking the safest route,
but maybe it's death to be bored.
So, back to the place where I'm most me,
flying and letting go. That's where I live
and that's where I'll die,
maimed, broken, and worn.
The only regrets are steps not taken
when fear gets in the way,
blocking the path to a new direction
down the most interesting roads.

Yep.

Love is a gift given freely
without coercion or greed,
without expectation of gifts returned
or appreciation, it has no need,
but desire for safety, health, and joy
for the gifted, known or unseen.
That's when it's pure, absent of self,
and the greatest gift received.
So, may you live in health, joy and peace.
All manner of wonderful things
and promise me, please, to cherish
yourself, and live up to all that love means.

Good Ole Boy

A good ole boy
who knows where the fun is
whose heart knows naught of betrayal.
Thoughts held within until limit is reached
then hope he forgot where the gun is.



Well that one was somewhat fun to do.