The most beautiful mountain
        Haven’t been discovered yet
The most beautiful seasons
       Haven’t been chosen yet
Our most magical days
         We haven’t seen them yet
The most beautiful words I want to say to you
I haven’t mentioned yet.

What is time but a simple measure of the present, the now, the happening? What is time, thought is time, thinking is my time, it is now my time to think To think of what? How much time I have to think of how all time can offer me is nothing but straight thought? Straight thought what is straight thought? One thought that simply isn’t a gay one? A gay one... One that is rejected simply because over time it had no choice but to be that exactly do to thinking of who it wanted to be over time as they were left alone to grow. To grow over time, it takes time to grow to become something big, something so big and magnificent everyone looks up to you for you are the only giant of your kind, that is expected to lead to be one who knows all who can handle all that falls from above accept what things are for as they are when they are given when they come they are received that way because they formed that way over time, why change it? Change it, don’t change it, what to do to change or not to change. Change is good, change is happy change is... change is... is life. Life is change. Change is when light turns into the dark and dark into light because the earth rotates the sun sets and rises, why change? And when the clock strikes 9 it has changed because that is what happens over time. What is time, growth is time no, growth is what happens over time. Growth is what becomes when one truly knows oneself and is ready for time to take its toll and change you! You have changed because you were given the time you needed to find who you were deep down, what you stand for … what you wanted to write. Your story, write your story no one else’s, why try to live someone else’s story when we barely have enough time to live our own… story. What is my story? My story is long my story is my life my life is change, my life, my change its my time to start writing my story about how one can change…but when? When will it come when the time is right? When is the time right? I guess only time will tell.

Love should be enduring, everlasting, forever… love should be shared with the one you want to be with for years and days to come. I think about her. She really ****** me over. I met the ***** and she ended up dropping me, it wasn’t love though that’s for sure. Why would she be the one who comes to mind ? My love for my family and the love I will have with my significant other are two different kinds of love. I will and would do anything for my family because I love them. We ride it out together through thick and thin. I’d **** for my family. I wouldn’t **** for someone I said I “Love” because its based off of emotion. Love for family is different, its deeper than emotions… its Life. The only real love I’ve ever known was the love of family members. I’ve told others I love them. There is my friendly I love you and an even deeper from the bottom of my heart to the depths of my gut I love you. There is also an if something happened to you I’d be torn to shreds for who knows how long I love you. I myself have many different ways of expressing my love and care for others. Love to me is just another four letter word that is overused and underexpressed.  And at times it means… nothing. But form me I grew up with the old expression of … word is bond.

You can burn all you please,
Decimate, obliterate;
But I won't even warm,
Already burning hot
From the inside out,
I was always here,
Made to handle your demons,
I cannot be fazed by the darkness,
Fire starter you may be;
But I'm flint for your kindle,
Fuel for your perseverance,
But once you are fully lit
You will never be put out,
And so I'll secede,
For all may stick like burs
But I'm no Velcro;
Volcano on an island;
You'll see my trail in the ashes
All around you fiery torch
And to who will you pass?
I will not know, but hope
That fortunate soul can handle your fire...
© okpoet

it may seem like
nothing, but the
boys used to call
me bush and this
girl named Sierra
would lie about
our friendship,
i've been ugly
more times than
I can count and
because I never
forgave them I
still spend every
day trying so
hard to be

loved

The sky was your modern miracle
Simply because you were in it
Defying the laws of everything
You went against physics
You went against society
With a cape proudly adorning your shoulders
You did the impossible
Gravity became your vanquished enemy
And you didn’t look down.
But by tying responsibilities to your ankles
The World managed to weigh you down
Telling you to get your head out of the clouds
You haven’t taken to the sky since then
Now a suit is all that adorns your shoulders
And the duties of manhood keep your eyes on the Earth
And out of the Heavens

But hopefully someday when the wind blows just right
You’ll drag that old cape from your closet
The one everyone told you not to wear
Letting your feet drift from beneath you
You’ll become lighter than air
And leaving all responsibilities behind you
You’ll remember how to fly

Worn down nails,
rough and ridged.
Islands of colour float
in a pool of unwanted expectation.

Small pieces of skin stand proud.
Trail down my frame,
with your cardboard ogre hands.
Black prickles tickle your material,
poking out from minuscule crevices
you wanted to believe did not exist.

I am not preparing myself for your pleasure.
Your gaze through tinted roses,
giving you a wanted expectation.
Well, i'll be an exception.