Clothes Poem

Written on April 1, 2011. I had just started talking with Nathalia.

Pacing about piles of my clothing on the floor.
Thinking all these thoughts about how I wanted more.
Life ought to be lived to the highest of degrees.
As simple as that sounds, I still find it hard to please
myself in all the things that I do hope still to achieve.
Perhaps my lot in this short life will come about with ease.
Or maybe struggles are for me, my anthem through the fire
God, my hope, is comforting, while trudging through this mire.

Can It Be True?

Can it be true?
That I would find a girl like you?
A beautiful flower all for myself,
So precious and innocent, saved for me?
How can this be?

I know it is true.
Your beauty is great and runs through
your face and your hands and your heart
So pure and lovely, I can hardly stand.
And I’m your man.

A Basement Brother

I’m living with a man who is living in my laundry room
It sounds a little sad, but it’s not as though I want him to
It’s just that he’s not wanted in a room.

He seems to be quite happy in his hellish holding quarters
His desk is made from tables and he hasn’t any drawers
And I feel like there is something very wrong.

If no one ever noticed that he never does come up from there
I think that we would walk around not knowing if he’s clothed or bare
And ignorant I’d always want to be.

Now for my friend I’ll always have great feelings of great love
and while he plans to leave us soon, I hope that God above
will keep us right beside each other
No replacement with another
but that we will always be good friends.

Happy birthday Brian.

Just A Little Sad

Do you ever feel sad for no reason?
It’s a sad that won’t make you cry.
It’s more like being a little depressed
the whole time wondering why?

I didn’t intend to be dreary
But that’s how the day seems to be
If only a source could be found, then I
Could avoid this mild misery.

A Silly Note

When is a silly thing foolish?
And when is a foolish thing fun?
I hope, for our sake,
that I made no mistake,
and your answer will be that I’ve won.

Oportunity Lost

All the things I should have done
Come rushing through my brain too late
A freezing of my social skills
Something I have come to hate

Why must I fail every time
To say the line and woo the girl
Instead I speak my awkward words
That never click, not for all the world

What’s different is how we’re the same
I see what frustrates me in you
But as I think on it tonight
I realize I’m like that too

[Why can’t we just get along
It’s like our chance for “friends” is gone
So I go compose a poem
And you go home]