Two Thoughts (+8)

The Better Option

 

Better to be liked

and not loved

 

Than to be loved

—and not liked

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2019)

 

 

How Little

 

It’s not about how much it takes

to make you happy

—but how little

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2019)

 

 

A Light Now Shines

 

 Allowed to grow unfettered,

allowed to grow unnamed

 

Allowed to grow beyond myself,

connected once again

 

Swept up by the wind that brought me,

and free of nether mind

 

A light now shines within my soul

—that once had come to blind

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

 

 

The Quest

 

A thing itself is cheap…

its knowledge though is dear

 

The journey worth a thousand times

—an arrival most unclear

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

 

 

 

Once The Bee Has Left

 

If you know that you can,

do you really still have to

 

With uncertainty gone,

does incentive still thrive

 

Must you then prove to others,

what you know beyond measure

 

Is it anticlimactic

—once the bee leaves the hive

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)

 

 

The Lost Pen

 

Consumed within my writing,

devoured in the verse

 

A sacrificial empty draft,

waiting for the hearse

 

Buried just below the line,

a dead unwritten verb

 

A victim of tomorrow

—whose pen has lost its nerve

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)  

 

 

My  Dying Rage

 

Forever an outsider,

a key without a door

 

Locked in your detention,

its barrier secure

 

Always on the outside,

forever looking in

 

My actions well intended,

your eyes see only sin

 

I spend my time in silence,

rejection as a friend

 

These years I serve in exile,

one word from you could end

 

The walls keep growing thicker,

blank paper for a cage

 

My spark now just a flicker

—to light my dying rage

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)

 

 

 

Deaths Twins

 

The friendly enemy,

or enemy friend

 

What matters the difference,

or need to pretend

 

Either stabbed in the front,

or knifed in the back

 

The wound just as fatal,

in either attack

 

Blood given freely,

or blood taken dark

 

Veins running empty,

leading back to the heart

 

To face it undaunted,

or preyed from the rear

 

Deaths twins will approach

—on the tip of one spear

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017) 

 

If

 

If wishes were dreams

—eternity could sleep

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2017)