The Gift You Gave Me

The look I saw when I gave you a piece of me

Gave me more joy than the grin you shined.

The fact you gave me a piece of yourself

Made me feel like someone’s there.

How did something out of joy and kindness

Made such an impact on me?

Now I can walk in the valley of falsehood

And see the truth

Knowing I am its bright light.

I can conquer the mightiest monster

And feel like I can take on a battalion.

I can soar higher.

I can fight harder.

And now I know I can be better.

I can be a champion,

I CAN WIN!

And for that moment,

I thank you

Princess of the cheerleaders.

Now it’s time to take the field.

“Victory, you are mine!”

Snow White In the Summer Blue

A kindly princess flocks over the meadow orange.

Her smile gives extra warmth in the sunny, happy place.

Her eyes are like the stars that show during the daylight.

She is kind to the small animals,

Always a smile,

Always a hug,

Always a laugh.

As I come from my weary travels,

I see her singing to the other little birds.

It always bring a smile to my warm face.

And, when she comes to me,

I feel like I have a warm friend,

Knowing that whenever I want,

I can come back to the Summer Blue

And she will always be their with a hug and kindness.

Is It Real?

I hear the usual.

I hear the praise,

Is it real?

I hear the love,

Does it feel real?

Is the symbol,

Do they make it real?

I see the label,

Do they make it real?

I have seen people close who are like blood,

But it turns to snakeoil when you need them.

I have known people of joy,

But they feel like have better things,

“I have a life!”

I have seen professionals,

But they are poor excuses for a lazy man’s efforts.

I have been in places for fun,

But they look at meek self

And see an ogre;

While the monsters are seen

More Jekyll than Hyde.

So I ask,

Were they real?

I seen love,

Girls who say they care,

O, o Weary heart,

Yee who yearns company

And wishes for hugs.

When one might be found,

They turn away.

I try to be strong,

But deep down,

I don’t know if it’s real.

I’m afraid to ask questions.

Instead of Kindly Rogers,

I get the Twist Headmaster.

One question,

Everything’s gone.

I ask,

Were they real?

All that is left are the angels that are too high,

They sing the sweet songs,

They show sweet love,

But I ask,

Is it real?

Now I am people that love,

People who are kind,

People with heart,

But the damage is far too worn from the past.

And it makes me ask,

Is it real?

I want my life with purpose,

I know there is a reason to be.

But I ask if I die,

Will love be real?

I don’t know.