Too

Too sensitive,
Too emotional.

Too smart,
Too quiet.

Too trusting,
Too naive.

Too involved,
Too detached.

Too muted,
Too intense.

Too honest,
Too guarded.

Too cynical,
Too realistic.

Too much?
Not enough?

Just me.

Shades of Jade

What am I doing here?
What’s the point anymore?
I don’t belong here.
Shrouded by shades of jade.
Everything is dark and grey.
Struggling to see purpose,
All I see is one big stage.

What am I doing here?
Is there anything more?
Looking for depth and life,
I find pretty cut flowers.
Superficial and meaningless,
Shadows of what could be.
Dying from the inside out.

Jaded to the way things are,
Guardedly hopeful for tomorrow.
Change must come from within.
It starts with one.

Lyrics

I’ve been wanting to write this poem, or one similar to it, for a while. The lines are comprised from phrases from different songs. To give credit, the artists used, in order, are: Pam Tillis, Andrew Peterson, Dave Barnes, Johnny Cash, Goo Goo Dolls, Aerosmith, Kelly Clarkson, Dierks Bentley, Dolly Parton, Pink, and Eagles.

 

If you’re coming with me,

You need nerves of steel.

Dancing in the minefields.

I’ve been a walking heartache;

I’ve made a mess of me.

The beer I had for breakfast wasn’t bad,

So I had one more for dessert.

Bleed just to know you’re alive.

Run away, run away from the pain.

Bad angel, get off of my shoulder.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Don’t let me get me.

I’ve got all I need,

Jesus and gravity.

Learn to be still.

Left Turn

All my life’s a left turn,

Going against the flow.

Looking for an opening,

Knowing when to go.

Never take the easy way,

Right turns are for wimps.

Pull out, take a chance,

Blinker, clutch, pump the gas.

Always take the hard way,

Push life to the redline.

There aren’t enough days,

To stay in the slow lane.

Bored on the Ward

Restless inmates fidget in plastic chairs
While pencils tap, tap, tap out rhythms
That echo through the dingy white halls.

Back and forth, wardens pace the floors.
Words drone on deaf ears as glazed eyes
Scan the meaningless graffiti on the walls.

The clock ticks off time, second by second
As the captives idly bide each minute
Until the hour of sweet pardon befalls.