I am changing,
throwing away memories and rearranging.

The past becomes faded so Im planning futuristic events,
been thinking about this,
correcting my mistakes you see im trying to make sense,
on how the world works and why the earth spins,
Kind of comparing mistakes to dumb decisions.

I am changing don't watch just listen,
read the words I think I figured out that they are gifted,
pause for a minute......
sparks light the dark and now the inspirations kickin.

Where's the love in you
The love you claim belongs to me
When I fall for your convincing lies 
You shrink back leaving me high and dry

 I gave you my heart, you threw me a bone
A bare bone, lacking flavor
Just as I began to put the past behind me
Your vicious cycle of contempt tires me

I won't toss my safety net 
My zone of friends that love me
I keep it all inside, the joys I reap
From writing poetry, staying true, free

Writing poetry should never be better
Than sex

It is not only when I am alone
That I feel cold hand of desertion
Loneliness gnaws at me all the time
I tipped with love, not returned
Like water on back of a fowl
Poured out without a receptacle

After the clattering noises of children
Young boys and girls find their nests
The babbling crowd only an illusion
The rumbling thunder roars the return
Of dry season and cold harmattan wind
I sat under the eve listening to the songs

Back in his youth when legs were strong
he never could sit still for long
'cause every view however grand
held no match to newer land.

As the years passed by and he gained age
with each day an added page,
he still liked to see new scenery
while leaning against some random tree.

Autumn became his favorite time
when standing waters first showed rime
for this was the special time of year
when he'd go forth and hunt for deer.