Out of my head, I'm lost in this zone
Sand in my shoes and an ice cream cone
What a time to be alive for many are dead
Pulled by a mirage, hope to never be misled
Carve out my path and all I do is walk it
No dollar bills in hand just joy in my pocket
Glad to be here
With no worries to spare
Friends come around
With good vibes in this pound
Stray into the moon
We reflect all that's good
Leave my troubles behind and pack my suitcase
Run with the wind, the sun is what we chase
And all I can say is I love my happy place
About the Creator
senmial
There is nothing more satisfying than finding joy in who we are and become. I am a glass half-full person and a work in progress. Poetry is my means of CATHARSIS and Music is my THERAPY#ToLoveAndBeLoved
Disarmament
They say there's no atheism in the foxhole. While I wasn't currently neck-deep in a river of soft sediment, I was still praying to whoever would listen. Why am I doing this again? I would ponder while staring at the device that in no less than a minute could be my undoing. I scanned each and every variable panel and commonplace button as I watched the bright red L.E.D ticker countdown. No wires to cut, no code to put in, there was only one way to stop this infernal machine, and that incurred perfect timing.
By James U. Rizzi7 days ago in Fiction
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