Sometimes my poetry is too busy,
like my high school locker jam packed
with random chaos and hormones.
My words fly of the handle like I can’t
all storm and rage and emotion, emotion!
…emotion, less robot, more human
or at least that is what I think.
Sometimes it is good to slow down,
examine the journey and just exist simply.
Simply exist, living simply in the moment.
Sipping sweet tea through a straw while
I look into your eyes and realize that life…
life is okay sometimes and your eyes are alive.
And being alive is beautiful, and warm and brown.
Like sugar, because I picked up this packet
of sweetness and I think you dropped your name tag.
Sometimes my poetry is simple
and sometimes that is enough to make me smile.