THE WRONG BOOTH

Innocently he walks in, a quiet night,

His thoughts are of the moment, he sits.

A cup of coffee as his eyes wander this place,

He is not comfortable as he watches those around.

There is little sound as he rests his weary mind,

Eyes are upon him but he will not understand why.

Approached by one he does not know, he reacts quickly,

Injured as he runs away, the wrong booth he found today.

Keith Garrett

EMOTIONS FROM THE WIND

Listen to it on a stormy night, screams with an angry fright,

Does it cry out after as disaster strikes, invisible tears.

Can you hear the laughter from it blowing on a Spring day,

Is in it sadness as always must it go away, does the wind feel.

Emotions from the wind, a thought and fantasy from within,

We must dream and believe that possibilities are ours to be.

Keith Garrett

I am not a hero, fore what have I done,

I was not a soldier, did not die with my gun.

I was not a police officer, protecting the streets,

Never a surgeon, saving lives while I did sleep.

I am not a hero as I worked from sun until sun,

I raised my children, never giving up so I won.

I saved never a life, I only saved my own,

I did never great things, I kept safe only my home.

I am not a hero, not a medal of honor or recognized for special deeds,

I am only me, doing everything too be all that I can be.

Keith Garrett

They don’t care if they die, they win every time,

Spreading fear and murdering as they see fit,

I call them not human as they take up precious space,

Their faces are hidden fore they are such a disgrace.

There can be no victory against those without souls,

Each time they destroy like the devil they smile,

We must conquer and eliminate but like cancer they grow.

What is scary I say is that from here the money and help come,

It may not be true but what are we all suppose to do, I think soon.

It will never end, look around, the bombs and bullets don’t lose their sound,

Closer than we know, wake in the night too attacks and loss of life.

Keith Garrett

There are those with looks of a fear unexplained,

Scared of something ,the world does not understand.

Laughing in the park, a man and woman,

Happy are their faces as seen from the street.

Crying all alone under a tree, tears of life,

Sadness spills out of a heart so broken.

Anger sits in the soul of a human being with hurt,

Upset at the loss of loves rejection.

Many faces of this life worn, expressions learned,

Expressions so true, those of me, those of you.

Keith Garrett

Source: HILLS OF FIRE

NOT MY SPIRIT CAN

AN OPINION BREAK

It’s amazing, a person can do their very best,

Feeling good about themselves, believing they succeeded.

Behind your back it’s said with judgement, without thinking,

Sometimes just an opinion, speaking without thought.

Anger can grow from words of a mouth of ignorance,

When we know of this to be an untruth then why is it that we react.?

A lesson learned, calmness must be observed,

Words can’not hurt, opinions will never die.

We have no control over others, only ourselves,

It is we who are the masters of how and what Affects our day.

This phrase i will learn from as i go my way.

Keith Garrett

I want to sit down by a creek where quiet sounds live,

Trees cover me with shade, listen to the water that moves.

A quiet breeze fills the air, leaves falling down around me,

I can close my eyes and still see the beauty like a dream.

Just a thought from me as I lay here on a bed of grass,

A better world is imagined from my mind, I feel fine,

Just a thought from me as I am alone with peace.

Keith Garrett

Maniac, crazy is the name given too him by a town,

This man with a long beard of gray, coat, and cane.

His house is said to be haunted, dark all around,

Weathered with cobwebs, many creeks, the only sound.

Just a lonely, old man whom at times may cry in the night,

Bitter from a loss, on his own hiding in his home.

Misunderstood, judged as he looks, his own heart and fears,

Just a lonely, old man with a lifetime within himself.

Keith Garrett

The wind has millions of years of echoing sounds,

An invisible entity that’s been always spinning around.

What it knows, that which it’s seen is unbelievable,

Touched has it all creations of the world.

The wind has whistled through many a war,

It has touched the falling rain in all places.

The wind has given power and force to the sea,

It will be here when we drift off in heaven to be.

Listen to the wind as it speaks from the beginning of time,

It knows where it’s been and it will travel into eternity.

Keith Garrett