Tired Of This Everlasting Race

This is a poem that basically talks about when you try to get over an old flame but its to no avail...

In the beginning, the gun blasted and we met
I took off like my heart couldn't contain itself
each passing step we went stride for stride.
As the time passed, as feet became meters, and meters became kilometers
I noticed a difference in your step
slowly but surely you began to slow and drift off.
WE no longer run, but now YOU pace yourself alone
my heart itself slows to adjust to the hurt and pain.
I try to run at my own pace and finish this thing myself
but every once and a while I catch glance of you
and I slow for you, remembering our past miles run
but you pass me and leave me in the dust.
I slow almost to a stop
My heart wishes to quit, and I wish to finish
As runners pass me and my feelings run me down
I lose more than a race, but I also lose a peace of me

Writer's Block

Whenever you poets out there have a problem writing a poem, write about the struggle to write...


In the midst of the pen stroke
ideas fly awayas if to flee from a predator.
They run and scatter as roachesas the light turns on.
New thoughts come and the subject changes
but once again the idea eater returns.
Thoughts run faster than everand we are left lagging behind.

So we take a walk, to clear our mindsbut we take our notepad
just in case the mood strikes.
Lucky us it has!
Inspiration, our savior, swoops to our rescue.
We attack the paper
savagely
So hard the pen bleeds our emotions
The paper cries out as we scratch franticly
but once again, from which we runit returned.
So our heads held low, we return almost defeated
but we will not give up.

Minds blank
but we blast music and read books
to spark the fire that will NOT be quenched.
Its workin'!
Here our pen flies again,
soaring higher than planes
faster than jets.
That creep can't catch us now
We look over our shoulder,
no one is there, so we continue to write.
But soon as the end of our race comes
and we see the finish linewe stumble.

The day draws to an end, and the pest returns
along with a friend that weighs eyelids.
Drifting in out of this worldwe hang up the pad
and rest the pen.
He has won this round,but we shall return.
And when we dohe shall run and hide.
Sheets of paper will fly,
pens will die of lack of life blood
and we will be the victors.

Standing atop of the block

Balance

BALANCING ACTS LEAN FORM ONE SIDE TO ANOTHER
LEFT SIDE WHERE MY FRIENDS PULL DOWN ON MY ARM TUGGIN ME TO DO AS THEY DO, DRESS AS THEY DRESS

BUT ON MY RIGHT MY FAM PULLS AT ME TO LIVE AS THE LORD HAS LED ME
LISTEN N NOT TALK EVEN THOUGH I AM THE SUBJECT OF DISSCUSSION

I LEAN LEFT AND GO SHOPPIN FOR MY CLOTHES
AND LEAN RIGHT AS I GO GET MY BIBLE

BUT I THEN RETURN LEFT AS I SECEDE TO INFLUENCES THAT I KNOW DO ME NO GOOD
BUT MAKE ALL OF ME FEEL BETTER EVEN IF THE SENSATION OF THIS FLOATING FREEDOM DOESN'T LAST

BUT BOUNCING BACK TO THE RIGHT I LIFT MY HANDS AND CLOSE MY EYES AS I TAKE IN A EARFULL OF MY LIFE OUT OF SOMEONE ELSE'S MOUTH

BUT TO PUT ON THIS FACADE OF COMFORT IS TO GIVE IN TO EVERYONE ELSE AND BE LIKE UNTO THEM BUT TO BE ME
IS TO STOP TRYING TO BALANCE MYSELF BETWEEN Y'ALL BUT TO DROP MY RIGHT LOAD AND DROP MY LEFT LOAD ONLY AS I LIFT UP MYSELF

AND FORGET MY INFLUENCES BUT REMEMBER DOUGLAS

Celebrity Collage by MyHeritage

http://www.myheritage.com/collage

MyHeritage: Family trees - Genealogy - Celebs

Solving Every Problem

I want to bring you another look at a hidden life....


Neglected by the lame kids
Embaressed by the cool kids
and my "friends" leave me behind

I'm left with new friends
That were previously associates
They always come together

They're die hard, no one is ever left behind
Sometimes I take a couple out
and we just pass out on my bed

We reminense on times where my heart was broken
or times I've been hurt
They tell me soothing wordsand help me to forget my short comings

I sense now that I need all my friends,because today was a hard day
We all gathered in my room
I listen to music as I prepare for our meeting

And here they come, a handful at a time
As they arrive, I begin to feel better and better
And when they all arrive, you wouldn't believe how light they made my load

So light I felt as if I was floatin
gBut all of a sudden, I began to sink
My tongue began to fill with words of wonder

How did peace become war in such an instance?
How can my friends turn on me?
My parents found melying in my room

Sleeping, full of my friends bad advice
My pain is at an end
I listened to my friends by the bottle full

And they overtook my thoughts
and they led me to the dead end,
that has now become my residence