Break me.

Just before we walk

One more hour,

and it will all be over.

Years of struggle, 

capped off in a moment.

 

We will throw our hats,

we will say “congrats,”

and we will go on

to whatever is next.

 

And looking back, 

a lot of choices were made.

Some easy, some hard,

all good.

 

Never was one more important

than another.

Every one has meant as much

as the next.

A little poem

For a Monday evening

Written hastily.

So low

Flight is overrated.

Travel, too.

At least when done in a rush,

and the flowers go unnoticed.

 

I have spent oh so many hours

trapped in a metal cage,

whizzing by the neon lights

and listening to nothing.

 

How many memories have I missed?

How many smiles passed by?

Is it worth the cost of all my time,

that oh so precious liberty?

 

I wish I used it better, and did less.

Spent it more on others, than my self.

Used it as it should be used,

not accounted and distributed,

here and there.

 

On the ground I lay, waiting for nothing.

Because here my heart is happy,

so close to its home.

Don’t Worry

Things will get better.

Even though now they are terrible.

Dark clouds bring weather,

believe or not much more bearable.

 

I know you are tired,

I am too.

This one inspired

by brave little you.

 

Rest easy, and heal.

Awake renewed, and feel.