the end...all to start a new journey

Literature has been the most difficult class for me, but it has taught me many things. There are more elements to writing than are conceivable, and the writers that showed us this teach us so many things through their writings. the class itself has taught me to fight through the grueling, and daunting, tasks of class work to come out ahead. I learned so much about what I still have yet to learn. There is so much room for development. I will be stepping out of formal education for the coming fall and spring semesters to boost my own personal growth for my future: similar to how this class helped me further things in life. I will be taking on a ministry opportunity with Master's Commission in Alabama. This is where the Lord has led me on my journey.

addict in the attic

You've got a transgression obsession. im not messin with the truth that has set us apart from the start. You like your eggs scrambled not equally yolked. Sayn youre sunny side up. But fightin lost causes. your life is a joke. Dope. Nope. You had it all wrong when you persecuted the only one that you had in your life that was still holdin on. To you. Through. Were through with what you threw. away. Day. Night. Losing sight. Tonight. Even the stars have fallen. Screamin. Cryin. Your phones on but now noones calling. Why? You thought you had it all figured out. The pain train was chuggin so you just bailed out. Shoot up. Racing. Eyes dialatin. Wasted. Tasted. The other side of life. But me im clean. Yeah ive seen the other side of life. The pain is real. Guilt and strife. 3 kids. a wife. So much to live for. God blessin the moments we all live. sure. But you. True. Strike 1. 3 comes after 2. Conscious contience confessions. Fruit. Scripture. Fellowship. your heart. All taken. Forsaken for a needle in your arm

Solo

taken by the midnight dance
breaking loose under the street light lamps
flickering shadows seem to prance
glancing
can't be fancy
that my silhouette the only one
my solo ends and day is done
no audience or tip to pay
still make it through another
day
night
faith is sight?
that can't be right
morning comes my soul takes flight
soles
flow efortless
light
tight
gliding feet
rhythym
tempo tempo tempo
feel the beat suffer another days defeat
this is me
the solo soul
live to dance, not need

Dripping Chalklines

Take another trip down the cold sidewalk
Memory lane
Full
Of pictures made from children
Sidewalk chalk
Pass it without giving a second glance
Center of the square where we once stopped
To dance
In the street
It's raining
Something seems to be gaining
Shadows from the street light lamps
Covering
Hovering
The beat
Rhythm of the scene
Footsteps in the distance
Good riddance
I know it's you
At least your far away now
From the things that we once new
Stomachs turning
Pages churning from the scrapbooks spinning
Chalk lines disappearing
Childrens laughter cover the face
Everything

You had been fearing this
When destruction came from your lips
Fault
Blame
It's all the same
Yet different doesn't change its name
Instinct questions itself and conscience
Is still
Nothing inside us is connected
Lost all will
This lie that has been erected
Structure now plummeting slowly
Emotions spill
Going in for the kill
I see its forsaken you
This city of lights
Splendor
Grandeur
That had once overtaken
Truth
Blinded
Youth
Squandered
Unwinding
Face down waiting
No longer hesitating the riot of senses
Cannot see it
No longer smell
My ears may as well be bleeding in this creation
Such a story to tell
Why can't I feel it?
Losing its taste
All of this and more has been lost in your haste
What a waste
It was love..........
And that's not yours to take