not sure

can i grow as a person

and still remain me

is life stolen or does it remain free

we see a future there may be no future there

there is if you make it

remain true to yourself don't give in to the wrong

bad things consume us....

given

If we were given it all like this new generation is

Everyone would be spoiled not just the new ones

Kids think they know so much

But know nothing

Texting takes place of conversation

Everything is impersonal

Nothing is secret and pure

Noone confides in their neighbors anymore because of this crazy world we live in

Grown adults won't even confide in their grown adult kids

Me Me Me

Thats all we are teaching this new generation

I remember the feelings of safety that came along with the world when I was a kid

Yes bads things happened and I was in the mind of a child but the bad things that happen now have to do with the whole world, not just a neighborhood....

outdoors

Peace

Tranquil

The river brings sustanance yet its broken from what is used to be

Beauty flows down river

Along with the current

That carries ducks and fish away

Looking down the river carries more than ducks and fish

It carries tranquility, memories, wishes, desires...

While looking down the river those thoughts flow seemlessly

Peace flows down river

Peace is not in plastic improvement, nor in larger endowments

It is in the flowing river and the chirping bird

The green grass and the stamping herd

The ebb of the horizon

Is also the ebb of our existence

Tranquility will not come through endless pairs of shoes, shiny cars, and pockets overflowing

It will not

It will come though the cemetery at night

While the shadows of animals are mistaken for spirits

Tranquility is attainable through the shell on the beach

It has floated a million miles to get to someone's feet

The bird and the whale all wish to live free

If they can't? Why should we?

Silhouettes of mocking birds,

Tigers and leopards charging their score

these things to view and admire can bring tranquility

Viewing nature is at a loss

Noone cares about the white horse riding in the distance

Noone cares for the little toad...hopping over sticks and through streams....

The children do,

and they know that we all once loved these things.

life is just life

I realize that life is never going to be perfect,

When I was younger I thought that one day life would fall into place,

And become perfect,

But I see that life is not that way,

Life is just life,

It's raw and unforgiving at times,

But we still move on,

It's great and wonderful at times,

But just as when it is raw and unforgiving, we move on,

There is no stopping for good or bad,

Moving on means accepting things as they are,

We have to accept things that happen whether they are forgiving or unforgiving,

Life goes on,

Society will never be perfect and life will never be perfect,

It could be perfectly flawed but never flawlessly perfect,

Nothing can ever be flawlessly perfect,

Moving on means

man and his thoughts

The day was dark and furious but there was a serene feeling deep inside the hole of Serena. No way could the day have started anymore oddly beautiful. Tiny drops of dew lay along the window, sliding down as the day began with a ferocious thunder. She wondered if she would see him today as every other day. Perched on the wall off of 5th Avenue just staring at people and trying to figure them out. One day he had actually jumped off to observe someone a little closer and he almost scared the woman who was walking by with her child. This man was not offensive looking in his khaki shorts, and yellow t shirt that said "save the bees" yet he had a weirdness about him that made her scared to ask him what she had always wanted to ask him.

For some reason she knew deep inside that if she spoke with this man that he would no doubt end up being some kind of serial stalker. He was so interesting. Maybe it was the spontaneity that he showed as he caressed peoples facial profiles with his eyes and wondered whether or not they cared that he was staring at them. Serena built up the nerve to approach him on this thunderous day and ask him what he was trying to see in others? Was it his life's goal to sit here atop this perch of superiority or maybe he felt the perch was one of reflection and unattachment from the norm? Either way she had to know and on her way to work when she turned the corner onto his street he wasn't there.

For some reasons deep in her gut she felt panic start to form. As she walked by the spot where he stared into people's souls she spotted a small piece of paper lying on the concrete stub: The perch. She read the paper and then she looked around her as if she knew he was there staring at her from a distance. She stuffed the paper into her pocket and continued on her way to work.

To be continued...

the abandoned part of me

perceptions of reality

are jaded

messed up

blurred

I see one thing and turn it into something else

I think too much

too much thought

perceptions are turned around

before the thought even enters my mind

it comes from the past

There is a line

That was crossed

Long ago

and there is no going back

from here

The perceptions I perceive play tricks on me

and I see what the abandoned part of me lets me see.