If we’re willing to bleed,
fight, die for one another
we owe it to them, live
really live, while we can
10.3.19
A life of writing
Is a marathon
Not a sprint
No one knows
Where it ends
Either way
9.18.19
sixth draft finished
hand-written notes
in margins, in purple
filled binder, in hopes
a kid threw a desk today
I pointed out he was mad
he made another kid sad
because they were fat and slow
asked him why and he blamed
everyone else, even the victim
so he flipped a table instead
of asking himself why am I
9.9.19
We all change, time sees to that
We lose parts along the way
In war those we love the most
Don’t always come home again.
8.15.19
What else is there to do but
Take a knee and ask the girl
For real, this time, to marry you
