I sit here and judge,
watching myself
through the mirror. 

I wonder why he is who he is,
why he does what he does? 
I guess I’ll never really know. 

I don’t mind, I’m sure
He must have had a reason.
After all, all his choices got me here.

The person on the other side
of the mirror can handle life.
I just need to convince the
one on this side, that he can too.

There is a song in all of us. 
A song that we used to sing
loud and bright as children.  

A song that used to annoy,
prickle, and confound the grey
monotones of adults.  

Someway along the road of life,
we start going to school.
We meet other people, hear other songs.
We try to sing along, join a band,
instead of sticking to our songs. 

That’s alright, we say.
What we lose in our singing,
we make up for it in the feeling
of being in tune with others.

We add dulcet tones to
these songs when we fall in love.
We pass out of school and go to college.

If we still remember singing,
we decide to sing, sing out our hearts.
Until we remember that
singing our songs do not pay. 

We learn new songs.
Songs someone else would pay to hear.
We do not sing too shrill,
nor tap our feet to these songs,
because that’s not what a singer does.

We remember the pitch
others want to hear,
the tone that pays and
the voice that is not mercurial.

Pitch, pitch, pitch.
Rhythm, rhyme, no reason.
We marry, and foster children.
We learn to sing along with our partners.

Every song we learn to sing
becomes less annoying.
Every group we sing with
becomes less raucous.

We sing to feed our family,
hum to please our partners,
and we do not whistle,
lest it becomes too radical.

We tone it down.
We make it universally acceptable,
and with that, our songs are
universally pleasing.

Offend no one,
cause no brows to lift.

There is a song in us alright,
but the orchestra plays deafening
silence when we are alone.

In singing cover after cover
of songs that pay and
songs that please,
we have forgotten our songs.

We sang these songs to fit in,
finally sit and work on our hit.
But after all this time,
we can’t remember our song anymore.

Sunrise, I wake to thee.
I rise to meet my destiny.
I marvel at the joys to be,
feel myself rise in glee.

Sunrise, I wake to thee,
I ride to paint my tapestry.
I know not what I see in thee,
You just evoke something in me.

Sunrise, I wake to thee.
Birds chirp in harmony.
I will soon rise and see,
a day full of possibility.

Sunrise, I wake to thee.
I feel a wave of energy,
The clock starts back to set me free
Each day, you bring a gift to me.

Uneven are the emotions that I feel,
Whether in my life or of those around me,
There is a lot to be said about lonely apathy,
Is that the only solution to preserve my sanity?

Uneven is my mind and the decisions I take,
Too many times I flip-flop and take a break.
There is a lot to be said about stoic silence,
Is that the only solution to save my vanity?

Uneven is my heart and the people I love,
Too often I lose my head and sometimes I don’t.
There is a lot to be said about stifling passion,
Is that the only solution, chastity?

Uneven is the world and the people in it,
Too often we have fights, we shout and disagree,
There’s a lot to be said about passive individuality,
Is that the only solution for humanity?