poem
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My eyes gaze east, towards the gray skies Where celestial gold peeks through billows Maybe I’m not so alone in the gray world
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This class shall be grand, Just as I had planned. I walk in the room, But I did presume I’d be the only man.
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The work cries out to me Calling out my name Begging to be finished Saying I’m the one All others pass me by Gazing at the load Either not raising a finger Or adding to the load The vain in my head throbs Like a bomb ready to blow Sweat glistens on my
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(Originally written on Monday April 1, 2013 Trying to make a poem On a Monday morning. Some find poetry fun. Others find em’ boring. I sit outside the classroom. The door is still locked. I wait for my professor As I check the clock. My classmates are standing. Me, I’m sitting down.
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If you learn not to forgive, Then a burden you shall live. And as you hold a grudge in life, You’ll be filled with grief and strife (Originally written on October 5 2013)
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I love composing poetry As I write my mind does free The Lord gives my talents Therefore they’re not of me Give thanks for your talents For the Lord is near Don’t get too proud or cocky Your gifts may disappear.
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(Originally written on September 12, 2013) What are your twenties made for? That’s the question on my mind? What is best for this age range? What should we be doing? Some at my age are parents By choice or by mistake. Me, I not a father, But one day I’ll partake. Should one
DavidSpeaks 