Most of my inspiration is from sadness...When I write, I create a release..I have no intention of causing depression from my poetry, if anything I appreciate the ability to express it.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

I can hear the rain pouring outside my door,
There's an old man on the corner trying to stay warm,
The windshields blurred, but I can still see the same. 

I wear my gloves tight with my hands on the wheel, 
Turn the signal to the right down the street where I used to feel,
I have no passenger, but if I did, I'd still be alone. 

I drive downtown through the concrete hills, see the smoke stacks below me. 
Pass the old footsteps that I walked in the more happy days...
Cross the paths of the streets I knew...
Twenty fives miles per hour, makes it all blur from here,
Take a glance in my rear view mirror and your not there. 

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