I will be gone for a while, I don't know how long and I will miss you all, and will talk to you when I get back I love you all

when I am happiest I am my saddest; life makes no sense

when I am happiest;
I am my saddest;
life makes no sense;
someday you can explain;
this all to me;
until that time;
I sit here confused;
because everything that happens;
happens for a reason;
but I know not the reason;
nor the question I ask;
I just know no difference;
in joy and sorrow;
as they are one in me;
and forever with me;
it is a bitter love;
I wish not to have;
but could not live with out.

isolation

this is my island of isolation,
locked away in my self incarceration,
where I am in solitary confinement,
the cosmos have to be in perfect alignment,
I wounder the world lonely,
with my thoughts only,
to keep me company,
and these thoughts are my enemy,
among the worse kind,
and this is my state of mind,
to always feel rejected,
but this goes undetected,
from the real world of life,
like the sharp knife,
is hidden by the criminal,
or a message that is subliminal,
I am just a lost individual.

I was a man lost on the globe,
in life's wilderness,
foolishness deafed my ear lobe,
eyes blinded by the mist,
but then I heard
the blessing of the gospel
and learned about the word
and about his apostles
and I was given clear vision,
and seen the clear path,
out of the beast's prison,
and I started to build my craft,
based on this beauty of wisdom,
and the gift of this knowledge,
and freed my self from the system,
and began to acknowledge
and understand The Lord,
is my protector and shield,
and my mighty sword,
and I yield
my life to his teaching.

let's see

I don't think too many really read my blog, so I am going to write a random poem to see

my house is blue,
so are my walls,
in my bedroom
that is upstairs,
bath robes are warm,
when they are not cold,
in 98 years I will be old,
chicken soup for the soul,
is offensive to chickens
my mind is blank,
the bad strippa is a skank
tacos are good,
but this poem just now
is the worst I ever wrote

no guarantee

there is no guarantee in life, but death,
not that you will take your next breath,
of fresh and needed air
or about what you say someone will care,
none that you will ever be understood,
or life will ever be good,
not even that you will pay a tax,
or that sorrow will chopped by the axe,
of loves wonderful hand,
not even that the sand,
you walk on will be hot,
or that you will not be forgot,
no guarantee they will love your speech,
or you won't be a victim of the leach,
that sucks your blood, and soul,
no guarantee you won't be addicted to blow,
no guarantee you lover is not cheating,
or you will get pulled over speeding
there is no guarantee this will be read,
but there is just one guarantee, everyone will be dead

don't ever know

if I could live no more seconds,
of my pointless life,
I be happy with no need to reflect it,
I can lay in my grave as time passes,
slowly rotting away,
like the speed of molasses
I would no longer be a living half,
that thought be pointless,
as the world spins I laugh,
but no I am stuck among the living,
not swimming,
but drowning in a pool of worthless water