From where my world began throughout my travels to different lands,

The history of my life up until this point has been written and put in a box.

I’m still young, but what is young, a number attached to the years lived here,

It’s a feeling inside, energy that you put out and the wanting of life keeps you young.

If I ever grow old then I’ll have been the lucky one, given a gift of more time to dream,

My book of life will be full of pages that describe who I am and then one day was.

There will be many thoughts and memories of a man’s life, pictures of my existence,

Will I be forever remembered or perhaps thought of by those still living?

Will only the name of me, that which was given be all that rests of my life,

If I ever grow old will I be of good health and mind to sit back in a rocking chair

So that my children or Grandchildren may listen to me as I share my thoughts.

If I ever grow old then to the lord I’ll thank for this book of life full of stories told.

Keith Garrett






Looking all around, seeing what’s happening with our own eyes,

On our land much anger and violent protests that get us nowhere.

Police are on the march, military putting their boots everywhere,

What are people really angry about as they scream and shout,

Signs are raised in the air all over the planet, do they protest life.?

If I don’t laugh about the horrible, ridiculous, and senseless games

Then it shall be that I’ll surely cry every night before I drift off to sleep.

Chaos is an epidemic roaming out of control with no end to be found,

Why can no one find a way to get along in this God given world.

Hostile faces live in all races because of mistrust and violation,

If I don’t laugh I’ll surely cry with the fear of bombs in many hands.

I pray that man changes but I fear that time will never come.

Keith Garrett




My eyes I would give you and be blind so you could see,

So that you could hear the sounds of the world, deaf I would be.

I would give up my voice that you may sing out your song,

Hold onto your hand when the pain of life becomes too strong.

If I could make it alright, any sickness for you would be my fight,

If I could make it alright, my sleep I would lose so you may rest through the night.

My heart is mine just as your heart belongs to you,

If I could make it alright then know that my heart I would give to you.

The ultimate gift would be to give so that another could live,

If your heart did cease to beat then my life I would give to you.

Keith Garrett




Never thinking about it as a child, growing as a teen not yet,

Is our path chosen, a small part but it is our choices that conquer.

Where we go or end up later in life is a decision from within us,

Hopefully, we get the chance to do what it is we love and are happy.

Oh! if I could do it again I would change many things about myself,

If I could go back in time I would wonder more about the future.

A better attitude could have changed some of my grief, only some,

I may have been in a different place emotionally and the world.

Tried much harder to keep my friends no matter where I went,

Being better to myself would not have changed who I am but saved me.

We can’t go back and do it again, a reason for this, something to learn,

If I could do it again, some things left alone, things are supposed to be as they are.

Keith Garrett




To live In the moment, that’s what we do as we take hold of today,

The past Is no more real, a memory, pictures In an album to recall.

The things’ we’ve lost and discovered In yesterday remain with us,

Wanting Is a feeling, an emotion of this our human nature.

What do we have today that we did not have yesterday,

A little more and a little less fore to figure out, don’t know why.

A waste of time trying to understand what’s been taken from a hand,

Nothing to be gained, only loss, precious time lost In thought.

So to the future, we walk with arms’ opened wide, what’s In sight,

To yesterday a goodbye as we no longer try changing the story.

Trying to figure out yesterday when life leads us the rest of the way.

Keith Garrett



It was a warm Summers night when last you were seen,

Disappeared did you into the quiet darkness, but where.?

No understanding to my mind as of why this could be,

Was there something wrong, what bothered your heart.?

I will find you, walk the open roads to anywhere,

Climb up high into the hills beyond the height of the trees.

Into the dark forest, fear will not weaken me,

Town after town I will search forever for thee.

Across lakes of many, I will travel, I will find you,

Know that from dawn till dusk focus is in me.

Your trail is followed, the reasons for your departure are such a mystery,

I will find you, the truth shall be known.

Whether it be of force or a thought of your own.

I am known to you as you are to me,

I will find you, this will be.

Keith Garrett



Such a long time ago now, at times I see yesterday,

The Summer of ’76, the eighth for me was now a memory.

I can still recall the last day of school at Bernardo Yorba Junior High,

The signing of yearbooks, celebration with friends as life would again change.

Do you remember as I do, a song playing on the loudspeaker? schools out!

Said goodbye to some favorite teacher’s, Mr. Pope, Mrs. McAfee, I’ll see you again.

We saw one another on these Summer days, a piece of us would forever change,

The Summer of ’76 was full of time with friends, hot days, swimming pools were best.

The hills were alive, time has taken much of their beauty away,

We laughed together, a part of us lives forever in our yesterday.

That was one of the best Summers, between eighth and ninth grade,

Plenty of hot days, down to Newport beach where the water and music were ours.

Whether it was an Ice cream, pizza, or a trip to the mall, we had it all,

Where was your favorite hangout spot? do you travel there in your minds,

There was a moment, a special place, the Summer of ’76 until it faded away.

I walked with friends down many a street, we were young, smiles of the day,

In the hills, mischief was our friend as we wandered where hills are no more.

Our faces met near a pinball machine, a store full of records, an outpost of jeans,

At times we walked hand in hand, boys, and girls we were at the age of fourteen.

It was the Summer of possibilities, dreams, and endless at the beach scenes,

Some have disappeared, others gone away, over forty years ago, a Summer of endless days.

Keith Garrett