poetry

I drive along a dark boulevard
Staring at abandoned cars and
Vacant stores that I used to know
The streetlight is on its final glow

My first love was video games
I killed many dragons and boars
Chased after a perfect Princess

Wise people hold their tongues
But sometimes the pot boils over

If life is meaningless, why bother with opinions?
If we don’t care about life, why worry about death?

Soaring through the sky, past the home
In the clouds, that I said would be sweeter
Than a fresh box of See’s chocolates
And warmer than a pine-filled stove.

Atheists laugh at the idea of sin
As they lie to their friends,
And steal to fuel their addictions:
Wolves plotting in the night;

Dark clouds before the rain
A chill creeps through the air
After the first drops fall,
A fresh scent follows

People tell me to write about hope.
“This isn’t the time for dark thoughts.”
Fine, so be it. I see the light everyday
And when I walk in the yard,—I smile:

If we don’t read deeply, our wits will wilt:
A pedal drops every day that pages lie in wait.

Atrophy is the apogee of all organic life
Run and flee, happily, from the doctor’s knife

I’m grateful for Nature’s beauty
But, when I dream, I create anew:
Flowers and trees unlike anything