I promised to share my writings! Here is a quick poem….

I wish my Reflection was different.
But I do not create the Waste that portrays me
In its tarnished silver surface

What is it that is seen?
Suicide braided into my hair
Scholastic failure upon my skin
My clothes tattered and soaked in Alcohol and bruises

I wish my Song was different.
But I do not own the Stolen breath that defines me
In the joy of the rumor monger

What is it that is heard?
Sloth tinged laughter
An unwanted language exhaled
My words colored red and painted with vexation

I wish my Story was different.
But I do not write the Benevolent tombs that cement me
In their dusty, dusty Pages

What is it that is written?
Alien Paragraphs across my soul
‘The End’ found at My beginning
My dreams found to be too brown, and not brown enough

I wish I was different.
But I do not create the road that will Save me
concrete embedded with tundra loam

One never builds the Reflection, the Song and the Story

So what thunderous magic builds the Road?