Hear me my friend

This road that you choose knows no end

The road less traveled looks scary round the bend

The mountains loom ever present

The oceans call ever repentant

Which do you choose the beginning or the end

Two voices calling your name

The open road that knows no fame

And her’s sweet and tame

Choose one is to die

Chin up boy no time to cry

For the other is gain

my friend wrote this poem. and i love it. i hope you will too

blissfully blinded

How blissful it is to be blinded

By a person’s light-

Light, blinding light, emanating

From their chest,

Baring their beauty and soul

For all the world to see.

So bright that it could not

Be hidden by the darkest of shades,

Making it hard to look at them

Without being knocked unconscious.

No fluorescent bulb

Or on and off switch.

No dimmer or adjustment

To the truth.

No, this light is like that of the sun,

Which faithfully shines every

Day without fail.

This light is contagious,

It ignites the candles of those near.

It is pure and good;

Radiance cast upon the

Darkest of shadows,

Reaching the smallest of corners,

Covering all.

No light shines brighter

Than that of the Lord

Working through his child.

another oldie. but a personal fav.

thanks, nate, for your inspiration and encouragement.

love me some shel

Hector the Collector
by Shel Silverstein

Hector the Collector
Collected bits of string,
Collected dolls with broken heads
And rusty bells that would not ring.
Pieces out of picture puzzles,
Bent-up nails and ice-cream sticks,
Twists of wires, worn-out tires,
Paper bags and broken bricks.
Old chipped vases, half shoelaces,
Gatlin' guns that wouldn't shoot,
Leaky boats that wouldn't float
And stopped-up horns that wouldn't toot.
Butter knives that had no handles,
Copper keys that fit no locks,
Rings that were too small for fingers,
Dried-up leaves and patched-up socks.
Worn-out belts that had no buckles,
'Lectric trains that had no tracks,
Airplane models, broken bottles,
Three-legged chairs and cups with cracks.
Hector the Collector
Loved these things with all his soul‹
Loved them more than shining diamonds,
Loved them more than glistenin' gold.
Hector called to all the people,
"Come and share my treasure trunk!"
And all the silly sightless people
Came and looked...and called it junk.