real men cry

why is it that the traditional way of life prohibits a man to show emotion. if your cry your are concidered to be weak well i beg to differ. real men poor out tears, real men show emotion and real men have no problem relating to there woman. i think we need to go back in history and erase the so called traditional way of doing things. after all i cry yet i am a real man.

my perfect nightmare

She comes to me in my dreams god so hold back the sun a little longer so that we can be together for i know when i awake i will once again be without my perfect nightmare

the clock with no hands

why is it that 5 seconds in the fourth quarter can seem like a lifeTime yet five seconds to finish a test you've studied for all week isn't nearly enough time? Time, Time is our most valuable resource. we can love again we can hurt again but we can never get back Time. i am afraid that we are taking our hours for granted. ask yourself in the short Time u walk on this earth what is the mark you will leave behind. turn off the TV get off of the social network put down the phone, and use your seconds wisely. spend your minutes with the people you love, our greatest weakness is that we all are slaves to the now. what happens tomorrow>>?after all no one lives to see the hand on the clock tic forever.......tic toc tic toc

the fairness of perfection

imagine a perfect man with all the right characteristics, imagine a perfect woman whom posses just what u need, now stop dreaming because there is not such a thing, our inability to see good in people is our biggest fault, we all have layers that hide within the depths of our souls, we pass judgment which when passed upon us is labeled as unfair, true love is when you take the time to peal every layer, true love is when your perfect mate that haunted your dreams for so long becomes an illusion of someone that kept u occupied up until true love. perfection is not possible but we ask him or her to be

alarm clock blues

in the morning i am confined to a bed.. at night this same resting place binds me.. there is no key nor lock or latch i am a prisoner of slumber.. five more minutes i say as my alarm clock trembles my spirit.. a flash of light blinds me while a yawn creeps to my mouth from my diaphragm.. i stretch and my bones crinkle.. bursting out of bed i realize the hour is seven i have missed out on going to work out.. without thinking twice my already dead body flops back into confinement and i find myself once again locked up.. moral of the story WAKE THE FUCK UP!!!!!!

ask me why and i will tell you

to wonder is to breath new air... curiosity serves as the backbone to imagination... who, what, when, where, these are the strongest words in the English language... demand answers beg for them but do not loos your curious state of mined... many of the great minds we know have learning disabilities that acted as obstacles. on the contrary the will to be curious served as a ladder to success. although questions are annoying they pave the way to humanities rigorous unexplained mysteries.

the will to go on

our limitations are measured by will...
when people loos the will to do something we put an obstacle in between what we can and cannot do. like trying to climb Mount Everest with only a fork. will can move mountains. will can provide strength even when every ounce of power is drained from your body. the words give up literally mean to let go or to forfeit. people who give up are not cowards just ones who have lost there will to go on. so i stress that we must hold on to our will.