Lies, falsehoods, and anything else you want to call it because in this life we are buried by it. Bull… or so I believe it is and how I wish I could speak of my own innocence but I’m not innocent; why is it people have to stick their noses…

Should I blame birth; as they say we are all born into sin, so I have yet another father figure to blame for not only such sin but my fear. Root of Fear… I have no willingness to claim it but here it grows and knows that I am afraid; am I alive?

It isn’t so…

Freedom’s Gate.

A triolet.

A glimpse of the fast paced world we live in today in hope of a whole new world of positive change.

A poetry!

This is a poem I wrote recently about how much I adore our beautiful planet and how it could get better.

Have you noticed your shift in consciousness?

A retiree resolves to not worry about the things he cannot control.