LIVE AND KEEP LIVING
As each day hurt feelings' heal their wounds',
I go on with my life working It through.
At times feeling like the end, although really a new beginning,
Staying strong Is what will keep me winning.
Letting go of what's no more to be,
Is such a hard task for one such as me.
A hold on to hope Is what I'm about,
Over and over, my mind struggles to figure this out.
Live and keep living until I run out of time,
But for right now this whole world Is mine.
Keith Garrett
Author: Man of many thoughts
IN MY DYING TIMES
IN MY DYING TIMES'
Whispering words' Into the wind, there's nobody listening,
Alone again, finding a place where I might belong In time.
I am a spirit, I am this body and soul seeking my understanding,
Many times' I have died but never enough to make It to the other side.
Lost emotionally, my heart taken away but never physically beaten, I
Cried' have I over the death of many things' loved and now gone.
Die do we slowly In many different ways,' do we have to cry,
In my dying times' I've risen up from the pain of rejection.
The feel of hurt to my flesh and bones' Is no sorrow for me,
My Inner being can only withstand so much more agony.
My emotions' written down, taken from Inside this shell,
This heart heals as I rid myself of these tears', dirty tears'.
In my dying times' remembered always In my mind,
Learn the secret of your own happiness, learn to live.
Like every season In which death Is a constant reality,
All forms' of life disappear, they vanish Into another time.
In my dying times' I live on, In my dying times' I have grown.
Keith Garrett
IN SEARCH OF
IN SEARCH OF
In flight, searching for hope of a better today,
Into the sun, across the wide open ocean below.
The sky has many colors' today, look to the sky,
Seagull soaring up so high, through the earths' window.
Freedom to wander, to fly, why can't I fly up so high,
Everything Is seeking In search of answers' of their own.
As a bird In flight, a man walks' the road,
In search of his own Independence of where he belongs'.
"Keep searching" Keith Garrett
IN A BLACK CAR DRIVING
IN A BLACK CAR DRIVING
Dressed up In black, not to loud, driving down the road,
Music In my head, the boss sings' out a tune, I'm driving.
Sunglasses to match this beautiful machine of black,
Eyes wandering, scenery passing by as I ride, dreaming.
In a black car driving, I'm moving down the road to you,
In a black car driving, eyes fixed on the horizon, driving.
With the window down I can feel the wind, listen to the sound,
My dreaming mind takes me to you, the way to you Is complicated.
Down the road as you are not so far away, just a touch away,
A smile shows through on your face, everyday this way.
Keith Garrett
MY MIND IS AN ISLAND
MY MIND IS AN ISLAND
My mind Is an Island, many places to roam,
Different things' that I see when I'm on my own.
If wander I do too far away,
Lost might I be In this land made for me.
See as I do and think as I may,
There are beautiful things' In my thoughts' everyday.
I can find my way back too where It Is I should be,
If I'm looking the right way or a trail I might leave.
My Island can be peaceful and sunny or stormy and dark,
I'd rather be happy and have my Island be a walk In the park.
Keith Garrett
FEELINGS OF FALL
FEELINGS' OF FALL
There's a change of seasons,' It's In the air,
A FACE THAT LIES
The devils eyes have a face that lies,
It smiles at you with promises so false.
Giving you gifts of sinful things,
Changing your appearance, a picture of greed and evil.
It taunts you into believing that bad is good,
Material belongings are most precious, love not kind.
Stand and be recognized, a face that lies,
Don't stare in the eyes of what does not cry.
Accept not a wish, not a gift from a demon spirit,
Give not of yourself, in an instance he'll own your soul.
A face that lies has many by his side,
They walk as you walk, do not be fooled, this is no heavenly stroll to the sky.
Keith Garrett
The night turns to a crisp Autumn cold.
The shadows appear early as the days' become less,
A chill comes to settle here In the West.
The leaves change of color before they float gently to the ground,
Not a sound do they make as they touch where they're bound.
From dawn until dusk, swiftly travels' the sun,
The moon shows Its' face sooner as early the days' done.
The fog starts to move along the shore,
Now that It's Fall, Summer no more.
These things that we call, feelings' of Fall.
Keith Garrett
TOBY
"TOBY"
He was my friend, he would always know when I was near,
My presence was felt by this dark haired boy, he would sound out.
Walking In to his kingdom was such a pleasure of mine, he almost smiled,
Through the window his eyes would find me, waited he did for me to see.
An excitement for this beautiful friend when I showed up to visit,
The love In his eyes sparkled, he knew I understood, I loved him.
Outside we would play, running or throwing a ball or just sitting,
I miss him, I wonder If he could possibly remember anything at all.
To see him again, possibly one day, his name Is Toby.
Keith Garrett
PROMISES
PROMISES
Blood of a man spills' from a wound created,
From a wounded hear runs' blood unseen.
Broken will be our spirits' by those we trust,
These are the words' of men with no morality.
Promises are made with the slip of a tongue,
Easily spoken from minds' without thought.
Hearts' and souls', those with no dreams',
They take what they can, from their hands' they squeeze.
Promises, promises, words' with no character,
From those with no heart, broken, always broken.
Keith Garrett
REFLECTIONS
REFLECTIONS'
Like the sunlight on a clear window, my Image appears,
Wandering back to you Is a place In my dreams at night,
Of the past It Is a part of you, live do you In a piece of my
today.
On lakes and rivers, oceans and wet ground after a storm,
Reflections of a kind or memories brought to our minds.
Wishing, wondering what might have been,
Backwards In time to watch has gone by, time.
Mirrors are looked Into and looking back are the faces,
Reflections of another kind, thoughts that we find.
Images of all kinds, like being children somewhere back
In our minds.
Keith Garrett
PAGES
PAGES
My life starts' out like a book, not yet a cover,
Nothing Inside, page one still not printed.
My story constantly being written with every breath,
How many pages there will be not known till the end.
This title was Imagined before my creation,
Cover to cover Is mine to write as I walk my life.
With each turning page I Illustrate my own time,
The one before this just a memory In my mind.
Stay open It does until my story Is told,
Until I've been published, this mans' book will not be closed.
Keith Garrett
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