I feel like I'm on a fast moving river

Sometimes I row hard and try to steer

Sometimes I just let the current take me where it will

Sometimes I feel lost

Sometimes I duck the low hanging branches

Sometimes the river widens and the current calms and I can rest

Sometimes the river narrows and the whitewater throws me into the boulders

It is in the turbulent waters that I am tested and my skills are sharpened

Always I try to appreciate the journey and the breathtaking views

I know around every bend, a new challenge awaits

Never knowing around which bend lies the non-corporeal sea of dreams

No more branches, no more bends, and no more boulders

Only calm waters, gentle breezes, and smooth sailing

A revelation I had
While watching a lad
Who swore, he was President Lincoln

Couldn't be, I did say
What had made him this way
Seriously, what was he thinkin

Oh so happy he seemed
He was living his dream
If only the Doctors could see

He was content just to stay
In his dream world all day
So I prayed this would happen to me

Now my sadness has lifted
And my thoughts are all sifted
Only delusions remain

I might seem a bit odd
In my mind I'm a God
Yes, as you guessed, I'm insane

Yours truly,

George Washington

Every morning
At 2am
I always find myself cruising down the memory lane
Retracing my steps
Cause I don't know when

When did we arrive at a crossroad
Where it's either
Just you or me
No us No we

When did our love run out
And it's either we stop
Or crash

When did the brakes fail us
And we went careening straight to tears
And heartbreak

When did we get lost
And never found each other again

of childhood vice
of ice and spice
of whisky dreams
fermented schemes
but in the days of lore
I'd promised me
no liquor no powder,
no smoke-paper-and-wool
i'd lose myself to dreams weaved from words
but lately all the colour in my skull comes from drugs
because when i went from sweet sixteen
to a sour twenty one
all i did every day of the month of the year
to **** you all off,
every single promise,
one by one i killed you,
darlings.

Today bears the weight of erstwhile trepidation.
Uncertainties exhumed only to be hung up as ominous flags.
Black as night my widowed heart paraded through the procession.
Garbed in ash encrusted, sequinned frock, hemmed train all tattered in rags.

Herald the face with no features yet obscured behind a chiffon veil.
In hands, a bouquet of black roses, worm-eaten to the stems.
The mourning sun only gave the weakest glow,
feeble attempt to rejuvenate all that is stale;
to imbue the shimmer back into forsaken jewels and dulled gems.

Her entourage kept up with heavy feet; all grim and sullen.
Also faceless... Armed with pitchforks and torches.
Today they will draw much; having thirst for crimson.
Today they witness her death as the black parade marches.