A Lonely Weed

A Lonely Weed

I see the simplest of photographs, such as this one of a solitary weed, and think of the most interesting things. I feel loneliness, yet strength from this image. This weed grows alone, but stands tall, blowing in the breeze. Sometimes one has to find their inner strength through solitude.


Fighting the War for Fillmore

Today I will not post a photograph or a poem.  I just discovered that one of the best bosses I ever had has stage III colon cancer at age 30.  If everyone who passes by this blog would click the link below, look at this fundraiser, and donate if possible, it would be greatly appreciated.  He is running out of money and time.

Steve Fillmore is an amazing man and was very good to everyone he knew.  Please, take a minute and if you can’t donate, at least say a prayer.  Thank you.


Wrapped Around Your Finger

Things look up, then fall back down
Nothing seems to turn around
You give some, then take away
Things are different every day 

I wonder if I wait for naught
But still, with you, my breath is caught
Wrapped around your finger yet
A love that I have never met 

Reel me in, then drop me hard
Maybe it’s not in the cards
Still I dream and hope and pray
You will come to me one day 

Wrapped around your finger still
You know I bend to your every will
Abuse me, use me as you see fit
I like it more than I want to admit 

I am free, and yet I’m not
Shame becomes me when I’m caught
What to do when things get rough
Will I ever be enough? 

So here I sit, a waiting game
Sitting on my wall of shame
Nothing more and nothing less
Look at this whole tangled mess