When are you really fed up and want to make it happen?
Are you going to wait for death to provide inspiration?
Will you begin when all is lost?
Crying in a shaken state wishing it didn’t have to be like this
Will it be when you’re vulnerable? When you’re in complete despair?

When? When are you going to do?
Must you put off your desires like your cravings during meaningless crash diet?
Haven’t you suffered enough?
Not taking vacations and enjoying the fruits of your labor
Saying “not now” or “next check”
Cause eventually “next year” never comes

You fester in your unhappy thoughts
Anxious about what could have been
Nervous to start small
That pace of your heart makes it hard to begin
But the question is always, When?

When will you speak of your occupation with pride?
When will you tap in to where your passion lies?
No more of the melancholy, matter of fact demeanor
Deflated, less than elated, alternate plans to a undesired future

If it’s temporary, be swift with your tenure
Build to your path on a life to remember
Sway in the breeze of your expectations
Land past potential and flourish in revelation

You want what you think and know how to begin
Next play is to execute
To that, we ask, When?

I’m A Writer…

Behind this desk, I feel so caged
Not built for routines or ways mundane
I’m a writer…

Meant to explore this whole world
With my one life
To travel and express
To create and script life
I’m a writer…

A person to make you feel
Connect with my joy or pain
Give you the smile
Force you to think
Provide the phrase for your day
I’m a writer…

Not just for the pay, but the love
A fantasizer with a prize
Better yet a gift from above
I’m a writer…

Possibly trained but not taught
The language of the distraught
The peace after we’ve fought
I’m a writer…

So it’s time I live in that purpose
Societies conditions have me nervous
But no matter where I’ve ventured
Or path I’ve turned
I’m back to writer…

Cam Talk…

I don’t suffer in silence well
It’s hard to forget what’s been done to me
I think I love confrontation
There’s a thrill when “show and prove” is on me

I want power, freedom and control
I’ll give love, peace and comfort in return
I want the energy to remain
I want family and friends that don’t burn

I want to mean it
I want to understand
I’m here to excel
And collect what I demand

I’m here cause I belong
The journey still incomplete
My preparation under the radar
My movement explained to me

Stay protected and out of the way
Grow and be what you see
Words said to myself
As I grow to understand me

Image by Yuri_B from Pixabay


What’s real?
The person trying to avoid contact?
Trying to to suppress feelings cause of how you’ll react
Or the person who fearlessly lives out loud with no regret
Take the heart ache or rejection and still prepares for what’s next?

What’s honest?
Saying what you felt when it’s too late?
Or speaking ahead of date to make sure things straight
Same delivery no matter the circumstance
Behind closed doors, not for the admiration of fans

What’s pain?
A subject of circumstance?
Discomfort from reality and thought plans?
A scar, a scab a wound, a puncture
A word, a tongue, a strike
A want, a hunger

What’s success?
A variable
5 artist with same canvas and colors
But not one picture presented is similar to others

What’s living?
The opposite of surviving
The feeling after grinding
The doing over trying

What’s life?
Anything you want and put your mind to
The best and worst of times
Will you fall or pull through?

What’s anything you want in this life?
Everything you can imagine or fathom
No matter if your atrocious or handsome
You got until your casket or cremation
To contribute and birth a nation
Time is the endless tool that can’t be wasted

Image by PRAIRAT FHUNTA from Pixabay

What’s The Move…

I don’t belong here…
But where should I go…

I don’t belong in a quad 5 days
Clicking, typing, calling
Slowly wasting away
Sure it pays and I’m thankful
But this isn’t the way
It’s just not my destined path
So I’m planning an escape

I don’t belong in the place I call home
I never did…
That’s why it’s so easy to roam
And half check-in
It made me who I am but it’s time to move on
I still want to help and will
But as a resident…No.

I don’t belong here…
City number 3 and it’s clear
It’s deeper than “tough times”
There’s no connection here

Sporadic inspiration
Kool aid budget executions
Wanting but having to wait
Not seeing true success as I view it

It’s just hard to do it
When the feeling ain’t exuberant
And your heart is pulling you somewhere
And you’re asking “Where” to it

Don’t confuse my words and views
Cause what’s not great for me
Can be the world to you
I’m crafting an escape
Not sitting with excuse

I don’t belong here…
What’s the move?

Image by intographics from Pixabay

Mental Prisoner…

Am I in the way?
Are these feelings reality?
Is this energy manifested or manufactured?
How do I know?

Ways of the idle mind that wants but isn’t sure
Finding solace is discomfort
Searching the feeling to be secure
Why am I so far in my head?

The battle is never over
The journey has no final step
Wrestling with the desire to win
With vision as clear as a starless sky

Do I want it all…or just enough?
Go at it alone…cause recruiting is tough?
Any option but give in or give up
Cause life can’t be boring…and rough

Trapped within my own thoughts
Empowered and Pummeled by the same mind
Sitting still, oddly calm
Hoping I have wasted too much time

Image by John Hain from Pixabay