MISUNDERSTOOD   



 Sometimes the way I walk and a way I talk     
 Is noticed,


 My words out loud are not always poetry spoken.



 A look upon my face is perhaps seen as an angry  
 Glare,


 To be safe is not always a smile shown, a distance 
 Kept.


 Trust a little, just enough so that I am not fooled 
 Or taken,


 Misunderstood I know I am, a judgement without 
 Knowledge.


 Misunderstood as an appearance does not tell of who 
 I am,


 An impression to be observed, not always a story known.


             Keith Garrett

                                                                                                                   
                   MICHAEL,
                                                                                                           
               LITTLE BOY LOST

 So young when daddy expected  you to be a man,


 The world wanted you so away was taken a boys 
 Childhood.

 Sent down from heaven, a special gift to share 
 With the world,

 Your name would be Michael, a story for you to tell.

                                                                            
 Little boy, little boy, a smile so bright on your 
 Face,

                                                                            
 Happiness and peace desired for this human race.


 With magical energy, you danced around the world,


                                                                             
 Songs from the heart, Michael! you've gone away.


                                                                                     
 As you grew up you learned to be a child,


 Bringing joy to those children who had not a 
 Smile.

                                                                                        Little boy lost, now you've been found,

                                                                                Dancing and singing beyond the stars far away.

 A smile and some laughter remembered on a face,


 Michael, dear Michae, you are home, in heaven, 
 You rest.
               Keith Garrett

            MIRROR WITHIN A MIRROR


 I sit here in this chair waiting, a room full 
 Of people, this is real,


 As I sit it is a mirror that faces me, I look 
 Deep into this glass reflection.


 Not a fantasy that one may walk into, step beyond 
 A world so real,


 What rests inside is a duplicate place that shows 
 A room I am sharing.


 There is another, a mirror within a mirror that 
 Hangs very high up,


 Look into this mirror I do, off in the distance 
 I gaze into another place.


 Where I sit is very real, venture I can not do  
 In the mirror or mirror within a mirror.



 This material room i'm in is reality, what lies  
 Beyond are reflections not touched.

                Keith Garrett

              MADMAN FROM DETROIT


 Once before but nomore with the Amboy Dukes 
 Was he,

 Ted's his name, on the stage he was something 
 To see.

 Terrible Ted, at times he was called,

 The words from his mouth were screams heard 
 For sure.

 Appeared to be crazy, he could speak very fast,


 He wailed out his songs, now let's bring them back.


 His passion for hunting was as great as his act on 
 On the stage,

 This mad man from Detroit appeared to have such 
 Rage.

 He rocked and he yelled, to all he would sing,


 Don't think anyone's like him fore the energy he 
 Would bring.

 A mad man he was, and always will be,  Ted Nugent.


              By Keith Garrett

         MAY I HAVE A DRINK OF WATER?


 In search of water, will I have to travel 
 Any further?

 The Summer is quite hot and I am very thirsty.


 Fore granted we have taken the rain that fills 
 The lakes,

 See the lakes as they sink lower, a hole in the 
 Ground one day.

 The waterfalls so beautiful fall down with cool 
 Splashes we see,

 Watch as they trickle, drying up, no more will 
 They be but a dream.

 Rivers and streams are places of beauty  that 
 Never cease to be,

 Take a look as before your eyes they slowly dry 
 And go forever away.
   
 May I have a drink of water, will it ever again rain, 
 What happened to the rain?


 If ever again a cloud in the sky, pray that drops of 
 Water don't pass us by.

               Keith Garrett                                     

                                                                                   
              MATERIAL THINGS



 We want, things we see of beauty are bought 
 And gathered,

 Valued by us are all these things of material, 
 Made up things.

 Collect them as we grow, throughout our lives 
 They are part of us,

 We call them antiques, valuable items of great 
 Worth and money.

 Stones of different names and types, a price is 
 Made, what's of greatness,

 Diamonds, rubies, and other gems, who was to say 
 They are so important.

 Material things to the world bring certain types  
 Of happiness, for how long,

 To some these objects define who they are, people  
 Sitting up high or below, the poor.


 Always told over a lifetime that we can't take 
 It with us,

 All of these earthly things, to heaven none can 
 We bring.
                 Keith Garrett

                                                                                                 
           LOVE BE NOT LOGICAL



 There are feelings we hold inside for another,


 An attraction of sorts since the time of man has 
 Been discovered.

 It's said that we all have a match meant for us,


 But is the perfect match a fantasy or a constant 
 Search.

                                                                              
 Perhaps a chemical thing all in our minds,


 Connected with another for a mixture that creates 
 Our love.

 Two different personalities not wanting loneliness,

                                                                                  Join hands together to become one part.


 Is it possible to be a team and still have our 
 Own path,

 Is love strong enough so that we don't drift apart?

            Keith Garrett

              MAN IN THE SHACK


 You can find him, if you go far off into 
 These hills,

 Way back beyond the green grass and rocky slopes.


 Oak trees of many years hide what has been here 
 For a while,

 Come closer so you can observe this shack built 
 Ages ago.

 Once it may have been of fine wood as today it is 
 Withering away,

 A home with no plumbing, no modern conveniences 
 Of the day.

 The roof is worn, dried out from many days and nights 
 Of being here,

 There lives in this shack, a man, not a youthful man 
 By any means.

 Left in peace to live out his remaining days is this 
 Man in the shack,

 We don't know where he comes from or if he's had a 
 Family, a wife, kids,

 We do know that he's had a life, this man in the shack 
 Has his story.
                   Keith Garrett                       

                                                                                 
                  "MAGIC"


 Wizards with wands or magical dust,


 Four leaf clovers and a seven showing always 
 On two dice.

 Witches and warlocks, wishes or rainbows,


 Do dreams come true, there are stars and moons?


 Do unicorns exist, are there spirits in the mist,


 Is magic a fantasy, what you feel are prayers 
 That are real.

 Magic lives in the heart, it is a wanting hope for 
 All that you feel,

 All you hope will be real.

                       Keith Garrett

              MAGIC BUBBLES


 There was a time when you were a child, 
 Remember when,

 Children playing simple games back in a world 
 Of wishes and magic.

 A bottle, do you recall that magic bottle from 
 Where bubbles appeared,

 Close your eyes and blow through that circle of 
 Dreams, watch their form.

 Bubbles, see the colors inside, small and big are 
 They as you see them float,

 Away they go to somewhere, disappearing with the  
 Wind, Vanished bubbles.

 As a child, it is and was such a creative, wonderful, 
 Experience of magic,

 Did you believe, try to see that each one had a 
 Different gift to be held.

 Blowing in the wind were dreams, wishes, possible 
 Things, everything,

 Magic bubbles, once upon a time in a child's dreaming 
 Eyes.
                            Keith Garrett