There’s no fun in excuses.
That is an addiction
that should be played with sparingly
or not at all.

“I can” should be adopted more.
I can’t I cannot stand
yet it is stuck in my vocabulary
along with many other discrepancies.

There’s no reward in complaining. It kills
good vibes, creates extreme difficulties,
slows down self-development, promotes
speed traps of dissatisfaction, negative
vibrations, annoying little tricksters,
sending out a casting call for gratitude.

Anxiety, depression, and every other deception
messes with the flow of life; nothing feels “normal”
fear gets amplified; one’s mind gets stuck in an
unrealistic world, moving forward is paralyzing.

Miserable people love company; they operate
off hopelessness, same day—different seasons.
They battle excess anxiety daily, annoyed with life,
real-life zombies lost and confused,
there’s always something to complain about
with their half-full or half-empty glasses.

On my own, I’ve done nothing but dig deep
trenches for myself; I’ve single handedly
buried me alive, every seed I’ve ever planted
got uprooted, I’ve built my foundation on
shifting sands, God was not in the equation.

With God, all things are possible; I know that
saying well enough to know nothing is out
of His reach though I’m often too blind
to see the many possibilities I have yet to
learn to place my trust in Him entirely.

Your wife wants your reassurance
now and then to know her husband
appreciates her, so fuel her with those
friendly reminders, now and then,
she’ll experience your appreciation
time and effort is your friend.

Walk away from anything less than
pleasing your happiness is extremely
important; your life depends on your smile.

Love should not be a guessing game
—depending on how others feel tomorrow—
it shouldn’t hurt (your mental health).

I cut a piece of my heart for you, but you
won’t accept a bite, you say you need
more than a slice, but you won’t give
anything in return, not even a spoonful;
I’m about to walk away.

Unguarded, unscripted moments,
no rehearsals needed
fear is an inconvenience
when joy enters the picture.

I’m just floating in outer space with no genuine
sense of direction with you in view, I cannot
figure you out there’s a mystery about you,
and it’s not in a good way one side of me
says you might be worth it, and
the other side says to walk away.

I can’t remain a victim of my past
any longer I’ve spent too many years
hanging on to it for dear life as if it were my
last breath, I didn’t want to forget
certain memories I’ve neglected the present.