Here are a couple of mine from my journal...just wanted to repost them in the appropriate forum.
The truck can run me over
The truck can swerve and reject
The truck may take a different turn
My road signs to deflect
The truck may not be insured
The truck is running on e
The truck consulting his maps
Isn't where it should be
The truck has a bad driving record
It has yet to clear
The truck can say "I think I can"
But can he continually steer?
So I put away my hitch-hiking hand
And walk into the woods
As it passes, I can see
His headlights were no good
in beautiful comfort
your leg touches mine
your eyes meet mine
i feel it's time
but i hold back
in beautiful comfort
my fears disappear
my thoughts are clear
when you are near
but i just sit back
in beautiful comfort
you search my heart
and from yours impart
oh, the suspended starts
because you hold back
Ventured into Island Heights
A place almost forgotten
But as my feet
Carried me over the dock
I recalled amazing sights
Houses along waters' edge
Shining across the night's bay
Where vessels swim
By the moon's silvery glow
Infinite praise I impledge
Reaching the wooden dock's end
Grandiloquent lamp shining
But not tonight
For the sake of the white stars
Putting on a show for friends
Another day for a year
20 something tears
is what I have become
but not what I fear
Took me one
to complicate my life
and now I'm out for the count
I feel like a pop up book
but the tabs are worn out
Another day for a year
20 something tears
is what I have become
but not what I fear
I can't tell
if my resilience is fading
or am I getting stronger?
every silent panic dissipating
into this cold december
Another day for a year
20 something tears
is what I have become
but not what I fear
a history of misery unfolds with every drink
you sigh heavily in distress
i feel it penetrate my chest
a deliberating exhalation releases your sigh of misery
a thriving portion of realism
fighting my youthful optimism
becoming the smoky air
between us, enveloping us
almost too thick to bear
you breathe it in, taking what's yours
but it's seeping out of your tortured pores
as drops of lovesick sweat and tears
your out of love and in the clear
a history of misery---
and I knew not, dear
I knew not