The Birds — New Poems

The birds came bearing news filled with horror, sadness, and fear. It
was all about him. Let’s correct the ego that carries your burden down
the wrong paths. Let’s create your change—
 “What if—?”
 The birds came to him with news, with such bought horror,
sadness, and fear.
 Correct thyself—
 His potential is foreseen, never forgotten, and always forgiving.
His ambition is lingering.
 *
If in life you are scared from a past experience—your people, places,
and things—process. Always dwell in each scene that started the
downfall, years later, like a current event. Dig ’til your last teardrop
forms a lighter of brushed-off metaphors.
 *
The day will come when I no longer carry the burdens of a hopeless
future, when my everyday fight won’t see the time of day, nor the
shattering of broken promises. That day is closer than I thought.
Humble brilliance is the only fight I don’t want to lose. When it
narrows down to one scene that can create ambivalent messes—life is
strange. I mean, I’ve become a stranger to its purpose.
 The puzzle was missing pieces needed to create its beautiful
image. Days passed, with more pieces getting lost and destroyed. One
day, he decided to forget about the puzzle and went on with his life.
He came home, sat down, and with a smile on his face—there it was.
 When life feels like nothing is working, regroup later. I promise
you, responding with disregard never wins in any format.
 I am not depressed. I’m angry.
 I am not selfish. I’m angry.

 If a person, place, or thing makes you feel like the end of yourself,
correct yourself.
 “No, Vincent, you’re a baddie…”
 I am not depressed. I’m angry.
 I am not selfish. I’m angry.
 Dwelling on the same topic constantly? It’s time for a new
chapter, you know? The chapter is so long, it has become a series.
 Again, what are my people, places, and things?
 I am not depressed. I’m angry.
 I am not selfish. I’m angry.