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when Pen comes to paper as I write each verse
I find myself on a journey, its my mind I traverse
roaming through neural pathways, recognising relays
seeing nodes I’ve seen before, and finally I reach my memory store
here I find my inspiration to write and feel
the soft tender taste of my last meal,
Writing for me brings back the sounds, tastes, and smells
from whenever this memory dwells
writing recovers the sweet scent that comes after rain
and relieves me of this dull sensation that once was pain

with every passing word my memories become more clear
the happiness, the sadness, the slow biting fear
half the things I write I will not share
not for lack of want but because I do not dare
the thoughts I write are mostly just for me
and from someone elses eyes could be deemed insanity

as I slowly end each verse, I find myself going in reverse
and it seems like every dull sensation feels worse and worse
I slowly travel back through my mind,
and come again to the light of day
to find myself nearly blind
by the beauty that stands in front of me day by day
and I no longer need to get away.




My Porch Steps


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I remember a time when I’d never smoke alone
but now these porch steps have become my home
somewhere I go to think up every line
a place to make sure my words stay in time
but by the time I reach the top of these porch steps
it seems that my head already forgets
the words that just came rushing into my thoughts
replaced with nothing, just naught

but still everyday I visit these porch steps
with a cig in my hand,
to think up these lines I will always forget,
this porch is my home and it always begets
these rhymes to my mind, even though they will never be heard
these porch steps will stay home to this poetry nerd.



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Why do we try to change the world?

do our eyes not see what beauty there is

and what beauty we have destroyed?

it seems for centuries our world has been doomed

to suffer the fabled fate of Sci-Fi films

we drill into our earth to find some light

but just create darker days to come

all we do to fuel our pyromanic need

is slowly destroying our world

if you read these words, I pray take heed

the end of days I will not see

But I don’t want the future to blame me.