Early Morning

I watch as the day awakens, 

Sunlight reflecting off windows and metal, 

Glimmering bright in the morning rays, 

The earth comes alive as dawn settles. 

So much going on in the first few hours;

Birds sing their melodious tunes

From their tall, green forest towers.

Flowers bloom with the morning warmth, 

And slowly the bees come out to drink. 

The day moves quickly in the early morn’,

And is gone in a blink. 

I’m grateful for these early breaks; 

It’s the calm before the storm. 

No one has to know 

Just how tired and worn. 

I can be alive in those breaking minutes, 

And enjoy the serenity; 

I can be at peace

With just being me. 

It’s before reality truly kicks in, 

When I watch the day awaken

That I feel like I really belong

And I’m not so shaken. 

Life’s Tribulations¬†

It’s curious how life transpires, 

Filled with serene meadows and boggy mires. 

It’s never completely happy or sad, 

Never completely good or bad. 

All my life I’ve seeked to find 

The right balance of body and mind. 

But I’ve never found 

What constantly gets me down. 

It disrupts my delicate stability

So that I can’t feel a thing, 

And I always have to search 

For what has me in this lurch. 

It makes me wonder how other people feel, 

And if their personality is a facade or is it real? 

Do they feel down and just hide it? 

Does their heart have any hurt inside it?

Some people can get along 

No matter what goes wrong,

And I envy that power they have 

To never let the sadness get too bad. 

It’s a strong ability 

To not be affected by everything we see, 

To not be bogged down by memories

Or not be parylyzed by their stories. 

My life is an entire book

That I often don’t allow a look. 

Not for any good reason really, 

But my stories seem a little silly, 

And I’m afraid the reaction

Won’t be to me satisfaction. 

Or, worst case, they use it against me;

I’ve had that happen a few times in my history. 

Life is a challenge; that’s for sure, 

And no one gets out completely pure. 

I just want my happiness 

Instead of this self-created mess. 

Maybe I’ll figure it out eventually 

And eventually live life blissfully. 


Words fail me at times like these, 

When all I can think of haunts me. 

Those thoughts scrambled in my brain

Take the helm of this chugging train

And I can’t stop the flow of emotion

From thoroughly clogging the locomotion. 

I’ve tried to find my niche in life 

But failed at so many things I thought right.

It becomes more difficult every day 

To say I’m really okay, 

When everything inside is screaming for release,

Wishing these thoughts would permanently cease. 

But it’s not to be; 

The fire continues internally. 

I’m try to extinguish this flame 

But I keep falling under blame. 

I know I’ve done many wrongs, 

And now I feel like I don’t belong

But I fight that feeling every day 

And will continue even in disarray. 

This poem itself is just a jumble of thoughts

From one line to another I almost feel lost, 

But I feel like I have so many words to speak

Even though I can’t say them because I’m weak, 

So I fumble through life with uncertainty; 

All a part of being me. 


Tomorrow will be a better day; 

That’s what they always say. 

I’ve been waiting for the day to come

When all this mess can be undone, 

And I can actually enjoy living

Instead of worrying about my misgivings. 

I’ve tried so many things to become upbeat, 

But as I sit here in my seat

I realize they may be all for naught 

Because maybe I’m just always distraught. 

I can set it aside for moments of time 

And be truly happy with my life, 

But then the doubt and worry return

And again my mind starts to churn. 

Either I’m just too stubborn to change 

Or I’m just used to the pain. 

People follow what’s familiar

Even if it’s just similar

Because they need something to guide them

Through the winding roads and bends.

I must have latched on

To these emotions ago so long, 

And now that they’re comfortable to me 

Sometimes I can’t see beyond my misery. 

If you don’t suffer from depression

Thank the heavens 

Because this is a curse; 

Can’t get much worse. 

Even when everything’s okay 

You still can’t look away 

From everything that haunts you; 

Even things that are untrue. 

It’s sad what I tell myself 

But what’s worse is I have no help. 

People try but can’t see 

The glimmer of what was once me. 

All they know is what I’ve become; 

Even as I shout silently I’m numb. 

So what’s the moral of the story? 

Is it a happy ending or nugatory? 

I’ll just say 

Not everything goes your way 

And you have to learn to live 

Even when happiness isn’t given. 

So reach out and inspire; 

Teach others to aim higher

And live your life the best you can 

In this difficult but short life span. 


I can’t explain well enough 

My things on my mind. 

It’s as if when I try to talk 

I’m locked in time. 

No amount of chatting 

Will ever complete my soul; 

My mind’s made up 

That it will probably never be whole. 

That’s what depression does; 

It robs me of possibilities. 

It takes away my happiness 

So that I’m never at ease. 

I’ve tried so many different solutions, 

But believe it’s for me to defeat. 

No amount of medicine or talking 

Will help me pull off this feat. 

While I appreciate the efforts 

From friends to family and all in between, 

They don’t always understand 

What it’s like to be me. 

Depression is the stranger 

Who lives inside me, 

Constantly shrouding my sight 

And taking away my rationality. 

Instead it’s replaced 

With so many negative feelings; 

If they were tangible 

They’d stack to the ceiling. 

I want so badly 

To be the real me I know is inside, 

But like a shy child, 

It runs and hides. 

Only glimpses do others see 

Of the real me; 

Usually the stranger 

Clouds over my personality. 

But I’m fighting it off 

The best I can; 

I want to know myself again

And to be my own man. 

I’ll continue to fight 

Until I feel like myself again. 

I owe everyone and myself that much 

For sticking with me until the end. 


The feeling of being scared 

Has kept me impaired 

Throughout all my years

And numerous different fears. 

I was always afraid 

Of the way I’m portrayed, 

So I never really tried 

To catch any eyes. 

I was always frightened 

Of what to be enlightened 

So I never went after my goals 

Because of the fear of them getting old. 

So many things I let fear take over, 

Even now that I’m older. 

It seeps into my mind 

From time to time, 

Making me second guess 

What is really best. 

I guess it’s my defense mechanism 

But it causes so much pessimism

Because I’m held back 

From laying a new track 

And moving ahead;

It makes me cautious instead. 

Fear, I loathe thee, 

And wish to exorcise you from memory, 

Instead giving me the confidence 

I feel for which I was always meant. 


I’m so tired after living so long; 

My patience wanes and then it’s gone. 

Some things are harder to tolerate, 

Like the way people can’t relate. 

I see them judging each other, 

Like their so different from another. 

They make up their minds 

I’m such a short amount of time, 

And the first impression is made, 

Often without a fair chance at the grade. 

What makes us feel so disconnected? 

Do some just simply feel perfected? 

Is it wealth, looks, or our behavior? 

Maybe sexuality or who we call our savior? 

Whatever it is I’m tired of it all; 

It affects me a great deal overall. 

I feel like I’m judged more often than not, 

But that could just be my own fearful thought. 

But the alternative isn’t much better;

That I’m just ignored altogether. 

That seems a drastic theory, 

But it comes to me so clearly, 

Shattering other guesses 

Into my attempts at social connection. 

Then again I can’t say 

I’ve given it much effort anyway. 

But when I was young

It was so easy to have fun 

Because friends were easier to come by

Even to a boy chronically shy. 

Maybe easy to make back then 

But just as easy to lose them. 

I can’t even count how many there’s been; 

More than I could possibly comprehend. 

I lost them either because of my temper

Or that I couldn’t manage to get together 

And just lost touch over the years; 

Some even ended with tears. 

And here I sit with just a few left, 

Most of which I don’t even address. 

It’s a sad state of affairs 

When you live without many peers. 

I just don’t identify 

With how people are and why. 

Maybe it’s just my age

And how I spend my days. 

Maybe I don’t have to assign any blame; 

It’s just that I’m playing a different game. 

Maybe it’s how I project myself. 

Maybe it’s my lack of wealth. 

Or my disability. 

Or my degree of masculinity. 

Who knows what the cause 

But it constantly gives me pause, 

And some days more than most; 

Some days I feel like a ghost, 

Floating through my routine

And I’m not noticed or even seen. 

Oh well, I guess there’s some good 

Out of feeling so misunderstood. 

It gives me room for reflection, 

Even though I still miss the connection. 

In the end I’ll get by; 

I just often sit and wonder why

Some people have all the luck 

And others are consistently stuck.