Everyday,
So far,
I wake up
On the right side
Of the ground.
When things
Don't go
As planned
I at the very
Least,
Have that
Gift.
Everyday
I poke
Eight friends
Twice a day
Even though
It means little
To me
It is the world
To them
So I poke along.
Most days
It can take
The most amazing
Talented poets
A long time
To work
Their craft,
Write
And memorize
Their poems.
Most days
I write my poem
A gift to myself
As much as
Anyone else
Because it helps
Me deal
With life
And stress
And keeping
The memories
I want to cherish.
I am too busy
Catching my thoughts
To memorize them,
Which is why
I am astounded
By those who
Have…
To me it
Is like magic.
I smile at
Strangers
And hug them
Too
When they
Need it.
I give single
Genuine compliments
To passers by
In my life,
Knowing
I will never
See them again
To tell them
Everyday,
They are beautiful,
Striking,
Wearing my
Favorite color,
Have energy
I love,
Are talented,
Are sexy…
Everyday
I choose
To wake up
And be here
With you.
Some days
That's all the energy
I have to give.
Other days
I feel as Large
As the Universe,
And have more
To give
Than I have
Dared imagine.
Everyday
Is another
Adventure…
And I wake
Wondering
What today's
Everyday
Gift
Will be.
