From all compelling emotions
sadness spins my soul
like a raging summer storm.
Oh, but how words so smoothly form
unlike love that quickly turns
my poor heart to desperation.
And in dreams my own damnation
death so quietly and so near
makes me think that maybe fear
is the worse inside my mind
and the one I mostly feed,
but when joy in life I find
happiness from all becomes
the one I desperately need.

Not My Dog

How pleasant the sunset by the shore
where he plays in the water, yellow tail
swinging wild like a kite without strings.
And he lives like I wish in short terms
day by day, leaving prints on the sand
and wet kisses on the back of my hand.

Selling Dreams

I’m selling my dreams,
some heavily used but still have traces 
of ones I loved and all their faces.
Others barely touched left forgotten
not too fresh but never rotten
and many never used at all.
I’m selling my dreams big and small
some are shallow, others deep,
others borrowed and left to feed.
I’m selling dreams young and old
many warm but mostly cold.
I’m selling my dreams real cheap
the ones I no longer keep
for lack of tender or lack of time,
they never were really mine
and faster ones just ran astray,
I’ll sell my dreams or give away.