...and counting...

12/26/2002

 
march means more
from 2/28/02

I wave goodbye to February.
March is on its' way to bring me
much of what I've already seen.
Maybe less of the cold, more of a breeze.
I'd like to be a kite this time around.
I don't want to get tangled.
I don't want to come down.
April Showers bring May Flowers.
That's too far ahead for me to think.
I want to stay up in flight
And out of the arms.
I want to stand on my own,
two feet, I don't mean
without the hand of God
holding,
Carrying me.
I'm sick of standing around
with my hands in my pockets.
Watching time fly like rockets
Leaving me behind
in the smoke and spark lines
and being best defined
by what is done to me.
Am I more than injurires?
Sometimes that's all anyone sees