(2014)
I am unique In so many ways But while variety excites What we look for Is our common thread
By nature high-strung But I thought I was strong If not physically, emotionally For things to roll off my back Be mature and take the high road
An idea In my head Falls flat On paper Read it
Does it hurt? When you prick your finger No I do this just for fun Our fingers lose feeling
My heart breaks A little each day For problems I can’t solve For things I can’t change All I can do is pray
I enjoy his company Riding shotgun Conversation No one to overhear Our inside jokes
My grandfather told my father when he proposed to my mother on one condition
Most women are cooks But a man who cooks Is a chef She cooks over and over To feed the masses
I crave stability Neither wandering spirit Nor home-body Yes I’d love to travel But the foundation
I wallow in my sadness As it pools up It has not swallowed me Who floats above its surface This surface
A healthy pancreas Is like a transmission Seamlessly shifting gears In type 2 diabetics Wear and tear
If I could paint a man Eyes so dark they shine Brooding and stormy Til the smile breaks through If I could paint a man
If I was in a beauty pageant My talent would be 'Lefty who writes upside-down’ Beside the contestant Who burps her ABC’s
My objective is selfish Not to share or be heard To get it out and move on No one seems to hear my pain No one seems to feel my pain
The pine trees Reach up On both sides Of the road Telling me