Say hello,
to someone new,
or to someone old…
Author: J.R. Kovacs
The smell of warm dust,
at the edge of the new grass…
There’s no reason,
to tap out,
so very early,
when you want to be all about…
If we had a boss,
responsible for just ourselves,
who we reported to,
and had to explain…
What we put on our doors,
says a lot about ourselves,
“Keep Out”, “Knock First”, “Do Not Disturb”…
There’s a million things,
standing in the way,
scattered on the road,
between here and success…
To be something rare,
is to deal with pressure,
and refuse to crack…
Small stones and bricks,
with mortar and cement,
long since worn away…
Blame is boring,
and can make,
life harder…
A flower whips,
side to side,
in a swirling breeze…
