It takes time to think things over
It takes time to heal
It takes time to become sober
But if you don't know what it feels like
When that time is up,
Will you get frustrated?
Will you lie to yourself
And tell yourself
"I've waited long enough"?
Life takes time to come
Life takes time to go
Life takes time to succumb
To the world and become worthwhile
But if you never live,
And only survive,
Was that a life worth living,
Or just wasted time?
On your deathbed
What will run through your mind:
The hearts you couldn't mend
Or all the changes you created?
If you don't take something from this life,
You don't give something during this life.
It just takes time to figure out what those things are.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Smoke
When does one know
That they have reached
Even their own limits?
When they reach
The point
Where things are blown out of proportion
And not even they
Can determine that
They've had enough
Of their surroundings,
Their problems,
And need fresh air.
At that point,
They won't be clear
On whether they need to
Put down
That cigarette
Or light a new one;
Whether they should inhale
One more time
Or exhale.
How does one know?
When they're offered
A crutch,
How will they know
Not to accept it
As part of their lives
And become addicted
To point they'd
Die without it?
Maybe
Only a smokey room
Will help them forget
The yelling and fighting
That went on that day.
But how will they know?
Thinking about it
Forces their thoughts to
Become scattered,
The mind to go awry,
And eventually,
The body
Just
Can't
Take
Anymore.
But how will they know
When they reach that point?
What will even be left
For them to know
When there is nothing left
For them to feel?
That they have reached
Even their own limits?
When they reach
The point
Where things are blown out of proportion
And not even they
Can determine that
They've had enough
Of their surroundings,
Their problems,
And need fresh air.
At that point,
They won't be clear
On whether they need to
Put down
That cigarette
Or light a new one;
Whether they should inhale
One more time
Or exhale.
How does one know?
When they're offered
A crutch,
How will they know
Not to accept it
As part of their lives
And become addicted
To point they'd
Die without it?
Maybe
Only a smokey room
Will help them forget
The yelling and fighting
That went on that day.
But how will they know?
Thinking about it
Forces their thoughts to
Become scattered,
The mind to go awry,
And eventually,
The body
Just
Can't
Take
Anymore.
But how will they know
When they reach that point?
What will even be left
For them to know
When there is nothing left
For them to feel?
Brownies
You like the edges,
I like the middle,
Together- we finish it.
The parts make the whole.
The edges give false leadings;
The middle isn't hard like them.
The middle is soft
And melts in your mouth
(If baked correctly).
The edges are better to some,
Crunchy, and what you see
Is what you get.
The middles may give
A fun surprise that makes you
Crave them more.
Or the middles may be repulsive
And unappetizing.
So maybe to compromise
You should try
Some of the middles,
But before you finish the edges,
Just in case.
No matter which you prefer,
Whether it be the edges
Or middle,
You can't have a brownie
With one of them missing.
I like the middle,
Together- we finish it.
The parts make the whole.
The edges give false leadings;
The middle isn't hard like them.
The middle is soft
And melts in your mouth
(If baked correctly).
The edges are better to some,
Crunchy, and what you see
Is what you get.
The middles may give
A fun surprise that makes you
Crave them more.
Or the middles may be repulsive
And unappetizing.
So maybe to compromise
You should try
Some of the middles,
But before you finish the edges,
Just in case.
No matter which you prefer,
Whether it be the edges
Or middle,
You can't have a brownie
With one of them missing.
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