Number 8 Pencil

I never liked reading poetry all that much, but did enjoy writing it for a brief amount of time. This is a collection of those poems and hopefully will include some yet to be written.

Sunday, February 16, 2003

In the Moment of a Chance

Well if I happened to fall upon a chance
I swear I'll make that moment last
Because opportunity is the only spark
That can create some light from dark

I can smear the lines and colors mix
Forget the situations I'll never fix
The ups and downs that I hold true
Shift me towards a different hue

What is to come in months ahead?
Moments I've dreamed of awake in bed
Full of guesses and short on luck
And then I think, who gives a fuck?

There's no time for song and dance
The time is now to live this chance
Past and future, certain unknowns
As unpredictable as skipping stones

Memories fade, dreams inspire
But both add logs into the fire
That more often than not create hesitation
To take true control of the inspiration

So I consider myself an opportunist
Living in the world of an unknown cartoonist
Always refusing retreat and advance
And never surrendering this special chance

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