My life in lists: it's called listography, with goals and names and facts and my bared soul, lists scrawled and sketched, scraps tossed out like debris,
and strewn around the room. Parts of a whole, lists make up who I am, my self revealed with goals and names and facts and my bared soul.
With time and effort spent, it's lists I yield. Lists make me; I make lists. The words are scratched. Lists make up who I am, my self revealed.
And there with letters, numbers, so mismatched, with drawings, cut and paste, all unrehearsed, lists make me; I make lists. The w
I’ve been on the ground, Face full of dirt, My dignity has been smashed, My heart has been hurt.
I’m not looking back, Not for one bit, I have to get up, Move on with it.
There’s a reason to move, And the motivation’s not mine, It’s for Him who died, He’s been very kind.
My blood is racing, I want to go fight, To correct the wrongs, To do what is right.
I get off my feet, And shake off the dust, Remove my inhibitors, Progress is a must.
I’m running on back
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Obscurity
Living a life in the shadows, seldom unseen and more frequently forgotten, Pondering the life I lead, introspective and seeking reasons I was begotten.
Fragments of who I am and what I’ve become I find easy to give it all away, Desirous of relating far deeper than the surface and touch lives in many ways.
Yet, often as is human nature, most will forget- so consumed with the mundane, Self-seeking rather than far reaching, it seems we forget who healed our pain.
Lessons learned, there is safety among the shadows- no expectations, no strife, Yet insignific
super contrast sunset streak crippled, bent, and brown blushing green, and colors uncapped grown throughout the crowd
still babies, decomposing, through years force oneself to work for the good, new fears learnt eventually afraid of everything my roots first, but hope for that more to give to join, be loved, more for yours will the horizon change, i'd always hoped i’d live, pleasure without addiction
but nothing sticks, time robs the day to day job and up the mountains, regrets of shedding the slow, secure
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