I, being the single expression of self
Except, I can no longer be expressed as one
For I am many; a legacy begun
Progenitor of generations to come
Am I the beginning? No not I
for I am of another who was of another
I could not exist without the person of who before me was
and you could not exist without I, who before you came
I am more than self, for my life is not a singular identity
for life flows from me
And so we stand another door
Do we dare open to find new
Do we bring the mistakes made
Again this year into new
Do we dare peek inside before enter
Do we dare run and find a new
All seems the same to me
Wars, greed, no caring for another
Why are people out on the streets
Why is the lit globe falling down
People screaming , bring in the new
enough of old, yet there was no cleaning
Once I prayed, and asked God for peace
A simple answered deep released
And in all my Philisophical thoughts
Clean out the dust in your own closet
THAT IS A MUST selah
Tiny pirates
Have capsized my bed
And stolen my sleep
Blast those little
Buccaneers!
Now I'm counting sheep!
written by Deb Wilson
The motif is philisophical
A wise man once said its better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at
all
What makes me wonder constantly though, is whether he had ever loved anyone
at all!
When people say that life is so short, make the best of it
Do they ever feel bored or dreary or just get totally miffed?
How can one say life is a journey enjoy the ride
When sometimes we feel the need to hide!
Why do they say we need to stop and smell the roses
When I tried it ants went up my tender noses!
Confusious said take one day at a time
Is it possible to skip a day or a while?
I don't believe in this women's lib
I feel the need to be treated like a queen!
I think our constitution is just a big fib
And true freedom will only happen in our dream!
Rest easy dear sage for these thoughts I have penned
Are just my way of making amends!
You electrify me,
you terrify me,
you invigorate me,
you slowly drain me;
All of my practical thoughts,
you replace them
with your philisophical quotes;
It scares me the way
you can read me,
but what
petrifys me is the way
I can still read you;
You will never admit it
and neither will I,
I don't want to
make sense of it
and you won't even try;
What good is it to leave us
an incomplete sentence?
What good is a muse
without a poet?
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