Pinwheel

You glisten in the summer sun,

But I kept you in the dark too much, for too long.

You go where the wind blows,

But you stayed while I held you.

To know you is multifaceted,

A simple pleasure.

You are my pinwheel,

An acquaintance of childhood

I had to become a man to appreciate.

One Apology, Sincere, Hold the Repentance

I'm sorry for what I did, whatever that might be.

I'm sorry for the way I talk, the way I made you feel.

I'm sorry for being me,

Though I'm glad as hell of it most of the time.

I'm sorry I rhyme,

and I admit that it's unlikely that I'll ever want to change,

But I am sorry just the same.

Of a Song Last Heard Ten Years Ago

It is an anthem for a life I'd hate to live,

Curmudgeon that I am.

It was never relevant to my life,

Divergent before I even chose a direction.

Its rhymes are slanted, stunted and cliched,

All at the same time.

It was an uninspired track,

Outmoded before it even dropped.

It has taken up residence in my head,

and I haven't a thought of evicting it.

I Was Born Without

It seems that I was born without a fear of being late.

I put my whole soul into it when I procrastinate.

I started waiting just in time, for I could take no more,

and just in time, I've been reminded what I'm working for.

Blue-Gray

It's too early tell the blue-gray clouds from the blue-gray sky,

Though I keep asking how, because I can't ask why.

To throw away this day, this life-crumb, would be rude

So I'll contain myself to saying it's too bad it fits my mood.

Thank You

I've said “thank you” for life in so many ways

Over ten thousand, one hundred forty-six days.

I've said “thanks” with my fists and my feet

When I walk the earth, when I fight and compete.

I say “thanks” with my mouth and my head,

Turning out words enough to draw nods from the dead.

I've said “thanks” with my stomach and my knees

When I examine things closely, or make them part of me.

I say “thanks” with unquenchable eyes

When I run them aggressively over the skies.

I wonder why I can say “thanks” with all my parts

Except my heart.

You Can Be/But It Will

You can be smarter in the long run,

But it will cost you in the short term.

You can make your voice heard,

But it will cost you hours of practice.

You can see past life's distractions,

But it may cost you your sanity.

You can have utter clarity,

If you're willing to be misunderstood.

You can be exceptional.

The price is everything normal,

Plus wondering why you're different.

You can be ordinary,

The price is everything extraordinary,

Plus to think always of price and never of value.