“I will always have a little bit of the wild in me. Always remembering what a good heart tastes like. Like love, that never ends. Like you.”

It was meant to be just rain, that went away. Yet we became the storm, of yesterday.

Wouldn’t it be a different world if love passed as freely through us as money passes through hands.

We are much like the nights sky, the big things draw our attention. But its the little things that really light us up.

I’m holding onto you, like a cloud holds rain. Knowing at some point I must let go. But waiting for the perfect storm, that will make it so much easier.

Sometimes my lion will try to roar back when I flee. But its my butterfly that keeps me silent when I leave.

You’re the crescent moon cradling all theses shadows of me teach me how to shine so there’s no distance between you and I.

Pain is as dark as it is deep. But just like anything that receives enough light, it too will fade over time and become something, a little less ominous, and a little more hopeful.

Pain often hides behind dry eyes yet that river still flows on the inside.

I’m holding happiness as though it never left it was always below my skin. Waiting to be seen waiting for the opportunity to breathe again.

It’s those hands of time saving me when nothing else can.

Skin on skin his heart beat an orchestra against her chest. Love never tires of music like this.

I am caught between the meadow and the sky knowing I can walk long distances, but believing there’s something greater than where my feet can take me.

There is no road less travelled than the one that leads into the sea. But the waves will always take you to where you need to be.

Morning mist like a blanket to dawn, obscures the hope of a new day. Yet the sunrises high, and the blanket falls and hope returns to the stage.

Take me from this wasteland, for I have longed for an escape like a bird that craves the wilderness, from every corner of his cage.

Sometimes it is not about the touch at all it is about the hands they belong too.

I was bad, but I was one of the kids that never got caught. If anyone ever knew I did something, it was because I told them. ‘Cause I’m a really good liar, so I end up snitching on myself.

At the end of your twenties, you realize you are inherently flawed, and that’s great, and that’s what makes you dynamic.

Just set yourself a goal and try and stick to it. Because you’ll always end up better than where you started.

The man with the average mentality, but with control, with a definite goal, and a clear conception of how it can be gained, and above all, with the power of application and labor, wins in the end.

Why not make an end of it all? My life is a succession of griefs and bitter feelings. What is death? A very small matter, when all is said; only a fool would be concerned about it.

Unwanted honking not only irritates others, but may also end up causing accidents. Drivers lose cool and it may result in road rage.

The happy ending is that it is not ending.

I don’t know whither we are drifting, but I do know where every real thinking patriot will stand in the end, and that’s by the Constitution.