Simple Moment

Walking along the bank, the rustling of leaves and twigs stop.

She stops to pat the water with her small palm.

The cool breeze off the water collides with her face and she inhales with a jolted smile.

Evermore, the joy.
Evermore, enjoying the simple moments.
In an instant, gone.
The girl reaches up for her mother’s hand.

They continue on their way and leave the bank once more.

A Pretty Picture of Words

Imagining consistency
And ladling joy
Giving it my all for you to just turn away

Thick-headed, stubborn
Heavy heart
Who the hell are you to say I'm insincere?

ha! not knowing is easier, less confusing
I get what you are doing, just go!
I guess it has nothing to with a growing heart or mind.

It's a race to be half good at everything? Buried in day to day? You say you aren't in a box?
Distant, spread apart, talking about the weather? Sticking to subjects on the surface so as not to offend Time....I mean, me?

This is not movement or growth or life. This is death. A death of the spirit.
Dig deeper, ask me. I will tell you the truth. This isn't your neck sticking out. Come on!

Wake up! You want to know more, look and you will see. You can't believe that everything you hear is just what they say it is...Words aren't always what they seem. Games, yep. Lots of them. There is more to this. There are agenda's-not only in the first person, schemes, wiggling into a life and back out again...

Is it too late to scream??