An empty stomach
A weary heart, close to end
Prayin’ for some rain
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Life
XVII #47
Tossin’ and turning
Ole Sandman ain’t here to help
‘Nother night wasted
XVII #43
A spark to ignite
Be engulfed in roaring flames
A beacon of light.
XVII #40
Ring of fire, burn me
Blacken me into ashes
To be born again.
XVII #21
Sweat stained gloves and shirt
Sore back, hip and bloodied lips
Soiled in bitter loss
The Mountaineer
They say that the path uphill
Is dangerous, slippery
But that didn’t deter my spirit
For I want to reach the summit
And see how the sun rises
And sets at the top
I want to be close to the heavens
To the stars
And feel their frosty warmth
I want to breathe in
The thin mountain air
To feel the glory
That is life
Old Man’s Jeep
The tires are worn out
Not road worthy, as they say
But the engine still roars
Still running on its bay
The hinges creaks
Rusted along the crevices
But the plates still strong
Despite the dents and bruises
The drive’s too rough
No infant can slumber
But it still runs like a workhorse
Still burns vulcanized rubber
