Originally posted on keithgarrettpoetry:


The leaves, they fall from the standing trees,

Birds In the sky fly, short are their lives.

A boy and girl holding hands In the dark,

An Image In time as they become man and woman.

Seasons of four change through the year,

Love has a season, sometimes a lifetime.

The nights are always dark, a still quiet,

Just as the day Is light, the world Is alive.

Summers with friends often come to their end,

Time marches on, that’s the way It Is.

Fly away little bird, animals run till they’re done,

A son, a daughter go away with the setting sun.

The way It Is, just the way It Is,

We’re born to die, someday too touch the sky.

Keith Garrett

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A journey with a friend home, a journey all alone,

Last night at camp site, a time for conversation.

A little supper under the stars, light from a fire,

Unusual talk from the lips of a friend, saying something.

He wanted to leave his mark on the world, on a friend he would,

He was to go away that night, a friend by his side.

That started a friend thinking, he wanted to be remembered,

He needed to make his wife and family understand, for himself.

Afraid that he would be forgotten, so afraid, who would remember his name,

A project with his name on it, wood tables with only his Initials would be.

One hundred years later a single worn piece of furniture many would see,

His initials would be, his name never known, he wanted to be remembered.

Keith Garrett



The way it works is we are given a life, a gift so incredible,

Slowly as we age and grow Circumstances change us all.

Tragedies, heartbreak, friends that disappear make us scarred,

Even through the great times, the laughter in our lives we change.

It’s not always a bad thing as it molds who we are, makes us strong,

We are all broken in some ways as this makes us who we are.

Our character and talent shine through in different forms with time,

To sing out and cry the blues, write beautiful and great songs is you.

The amazing art of painting, your thoughts with color on canvas,

Of course i will never leave out the great and special gift of writing, poetry.

We all possess that hidden talent but it is that it must be found inside,

If not discovered then what a terrible loss and waste to the world and self.

We are all broken in some ways but then we find out more about ourselves,

Strive do we to overcome and create a better place, share what we have,

Our experiences and knowledge of all the good and bad, we are all broken

In some ways but yes! that’s okay, we’ll work on it today and tomorrow will be a better day.

Keith Garrett



Anywhere and everywhere the enemy hides throughout the world,

They are not counted as their number is growing in silence.

They are of sick minds as they plot, attack, and steal lives from family,

Their belief that they are heaven bound for killing is a false belief, a fantasy.

Terrorism of any kind deserves a train ride to hell as it has no color,

Something has been so wrong in this world since the dawn of man.

Rise up!, together we need to stand on our feet, join hands around the world,

It is a really scary thing but we are all in trouble, dangerous times are here.

A story not so pretty, the sun still shines on our everyday but we must see it all,

In between the beauty and our everyday dreams remains echoes of a worlds screams.

Never can we allow ourselves to be fooled by that which we read or the big speech,

Rise up all people and question the lies that are told and don’t be easily deceived.

Keith Garrett



What i think sometimes burdens my mind,

The thoughts that live within me keep me awake at night.

Thinking is a process that goes on for a lifetime,

Only ending when the time comes for my brain to die.

My thoughts lead to the dreams visiting me at night,

By the morning so tired due to my brains night life.

The thoughts i think are many a day,

By dusk i’m ready to sleep them away.

Who knows my thoughts, not just i,

Another thinker whom knows me well.

Keith Garrett



They were two growing up as children, a town that still exists,

Ages does it just as in some ways a boy and girl grow slowly older.

I remember you both, names for souls whom i once knew in a place,

A wonderful town where for me dreams were a beginning in my mind.

An elementary school high on a hill is where you, a young boy played,

A school yard of kickball and many other games, your voice echoes today.

You , a girl remembered back at a Jr. high where friends are heard in the wind,

Through high school two would travel then beyond that a new road to walk.

Although i haven’t seen you for thirty years I see that you two have been blessed,

Love for a lifetime, a rare and special gift, a book of your lives, chapters to be written.

Keith Garrett


Originally posted on keithgarrettpoetry:


When we are young for granted we take running till day is done,

Strong legs and energy, so fortunate if you are without sickness.

Adjust do we our everyday in different ways as we wear down, decay,

Push on through, never surrendering to age or time, we do let go.

Quality of life, that’s how we wish to live, pain free and happy,

We all live a different life style, our individual way of living each day.

Quality of life, it can change in a flash, an accident, disaster, disease,

Life is a special gift, our quality of life means much to us, to live or exist.

How good is life when you feel sick or can’t enjoy your daily activities,

We all have or will one day aquire those things, ailments that will limit us.

Appreciate the health you have and run, play, see everything while you can.

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