I pulled a trigger and I’m not proud.
There was no blood but it sure was loud.
I said some things I shouldn’t have said.
Words shot out and stuck in their head.
My friends’ brain exploded, oh what a mess.
It was a poor choice of words I do confess.
I brought up a secret from long, long ago.
I thought it resolved but I guess not so.
Should I be silent or edit my speech?
What is OK and what’s out of reach.
I’m sure they’ll call when the wound heals.
I’ve been there before, I know how it feels.
Years have gone by with never a slip,
while I watched them drown, sip by sip.
Was it so bad to call them a drunk?
Am I a bad guy, an ass or a punk?
I know it’s a sickness and not their fault.
But why’s intervention seen as an assault?
When they’re sober maybe then they’ll see,
they pulled that trigger long before me.
Words can be simple, instructions often not.
Some can build a future, most just forgot.
I claim no bias; I share what’s been seen.
I note what I’ve heard, the answers in between.
Not everyone with wealth has money.
Not all are as sweet as honey.
Most work hard and stay in one place.
Some open doors with the smile on their face.
While some are truly brilliant, some are not so bright.
Most are simply average, some see the light.
Happiness is free, misery has a cost.
Choose the right direction and never feel lost.
I don’t think I’m old, though getting up in years.
I’ve had my share of laughter and shed many tears.
I write every day and I try not to preach.
But to share your love with others nothing’s out of reach.
Mornings hide in darkness to an untrained eye.
Light fills the mind. Who needs a sunlit sky?
Wheel’s always turning; they get us here and there.
Thought moves us forward, making us aware.
Hate infects the soul, love mends a heart.
Memories fill the void at times when apart.
Words can flow like water, but not all fit to drink.
Edits smooth the surface the deeper that we think.
Actions set in motion the motives of our will.
Results always happen regardless of our skill.
Infants of the night, stars will guide the way.
The universe is infinite or so our eyes will say.
Seeing is absolute, visions much less clear.
Plans are two dimensional stumbling on a sphere.
Life’s full of surprises, full of good and bad.
Time is unpredictable, why would some choose sad.
Poets make predictions, half are mostly true.
Honesty measures accuracy, what shade of gray are you?
Poems can be too lengthy with no end in sight.
I’m predicting this is one, so I’ll say goodnight.
Cupid’s precise with arrow and bow,
eyes tear as these words flow.
Emotion’s flood from every pore,
love’s felt to my very core.
Heart’s beating our lives song,
all’s been noted and nothing’s wrong.
We’ll paint our future clear and bright.
The darkness past now filled with light.
Our canvas is large with more to grow.
Our vision’s grand and we now know,
I am hers and she is mine,
now to each a forever Valentine.
I once was a young man,
but that was yesterday.
I thought I’d grow much greater,
but time got in my way.
I still have hopes and dreams,
hoping to dream some more.
But with every day that passes,
waking is less sure.
I see my ups and downs;
it’s my foot on the gas.
I hear the no, no, no’s,
but still I try to pass.
I try to write a little bit;
I’d love to write a song.
I’ve tried to write a novel,
but they always take too long.
I shouldn’t write about myself,
though I often do.
Every second a memory’s made,
gladly I choose so few.
I couldn’t be a luckier guy,
and fortunately once again.
I’m thankful for this love I’m given,
even though I’m a pain.
Our lives are full of laughter and bliss.
To not be thankful I’d be remiss.
So my gratitude’s shown at every chance.
My emotions stirred with every glance.
We snuggle close every single night.
Then snuggle again in the morning light.
With hugs and kisses all day long,
this love we share should be a song.
Flowers and candy are no big deal;
our passion’s sweeter and forever real.
And when every day is just like mine,
then every day’s a Valentine.
Yesterday’s thoughts written today,
is tomorrow’s poem on display.
Feelings recorded and colors felt,
the past is gone and hand’s dealt.
So I sit with a pad and pen,
soon I’ll write but I know not when.
Will it be happy or a little bit sad?
It may not be good but something’s not bad.
My heart beats and music is heard,
the world’s often dark and time’s blurred.
Life and art blend together as one,
eyes open the bleedings begun.
The flow consumes and words appear,
for now scattered but without fear.
Steps taken are sure to teach,
that love abounds at arm’s reach.