Live and breathe as human beings, we do,

Amongst ourselves we fight and hate, we do.

We are friends and enemies of one another,

Take sides against those we do not know.

Gossip is the beginning of many a struggle,

Anger and resentment to a fellow brother.

We criticize those whom do things a different way,

They make mistakes, are we not the same?

All are equal but none are treated this way,

None are of perfection but not even power can take your sins away.

We hold onto a grudge, it will eat at your soul,

Opinions and feelings will turn the heart cold.

There was a time when this country stood together as one,

Today many act as one, divided.

The world needs to stand together as we all live in it,

Unless we are of an evil mind then we are no better or worse than any man.

Keith Garrett






Watch the world as the pieces move never ending, the world turns,


We start from a beginning moving with a roll of the dice, a card chosen.


Does God watch as we play, is he in our every move,?


Round and round we go as this board game of life takes us away.


Is the game played right, do we understand the consequences of our choice,


Are we the players or are we being played, is there a point to the game.?


Could the game be everlasting or does it end in a moment for some,


Spin the wheel, flip a coin, take a chance and walk your own path.


Keith Garrett



I’ve witnessed the ugliness in the world,

Walked amongst it throughout my time.

What then is its worth, have I missed something,?

I know of the good, the great and wonderful things.

At times that which is around me gets clouded,

Sadness and anger are seen on many a face.

Within all of this I am blessed,

Yes! blessed with on going life,

Blessed with friends and family,

Blessed with the love of a caring woman.

I’ve seen both sides of life and I am blessed.

Keith Garrett




A story to tell as on the eve of the civil war it would come to be a birth.

An Irish neighborhood in New York City, November twenty third eighteen fifty nine.

William Henry McCarty JR. later known as the infamous outlaw Billy the kid.

A mother known as Katherine, a father unknown, a little boy would never know.

William H. Bonney would one day join the Lincoln County war, life would become short.

Legend tells that he killed twenty one men, later a folk hero is told.

Five foot nine he stood, blue eyes, smooth complexion, sometimes a friendly sort.

Some say he was a neat dresser, liked to sport his Mexican sombrero.

Billy was skilled with firearms, a cowboy, gambler, cattle rustler, he was an outlaw.

Sheriff Pat Garrett would come to hunt him down, Billy was only a kid, what waited for him.

He was cornered, shot and killed by a man, a lawman July fourteenth eighteen eighty one.

He was only twenty one when his life ended, a young man dies back in a time at Fort Sumner

New, Mexico, Pat shot him down, He was an outlaw but he was once a mother’s son.

Rest in peace Billy the kid.

Keith Garrett




Everything I’ve got, what’s Inside of me strong,

Pours’ out with energy, stopped I cannot be, give up I will not.

Stand and take notice as I conquer what Invades my spirit,

Emotionally grow do I, strength and power absorbed within this soul.

Heart of the lion, oh! I do possess, listen to me, hear me roar,

Weakness stares at me, such a pathetic coward It Is, look away.

Fear and sorrow attack and Intimidate who I am, rise up and fight,

Walking away, turn and gaze over my shoulder leaving It behind.

Hear what this man has to say, do you know that which lives In me,

I grow and grow fore I have the heart and soul.

Keith Garrett



With my hand stretched to the sky I cannot touch the stars so high,

Nor the clouds, a falling star, or the sun going down.

The wind, I cannot grab hold, a bird in flight,

A dream in the night, never a yesterday.

Beyond my reach is not my dreams,

It is not that which I pray for.

The hand of god I cannot touch, in my heart I can surely take hold,

It is not hope, nor faith, it is not a tomorrow.

Beyond my reach are many things,

Beyond my reach is not everything.

Keith Garrett



He rests in a wheelchair, he does not walk,

An old man Is not the proper phrase for you,

A human being, a man with feelings from the heart.

Wheelchair bound, how much longer will he be around,

A wish may be granted, a grandson in a high school play.

There would be no way to go until a special man would make it so,

A wheelchair ambulance, a request to a boss, an offer from a heart.

On his day off, someone I know, Timothy Harling from an Indiana town,

My girlfriend’s son, a gift for an old man makes him on this day, number one.

An EMT, six foot seven but gentle as a soul can be, Southbend is where he dreams,

This is to you, Tim, to give of your self, make an old man smile and his wish come true.

Timothy Harling, South Bend, Indiana.

Keith Garrett