A Fallen Sleep

Fast to dream
yet slow to wake
my baby has fallen asleep on me

My eyes stretched wide open
while hers so peaceful now rest at ease

So I sit and I wait
For her sleep is not mine to take



By Jonathan Grant McElroy

Broken Free

trapped by plastered walls
I see straight  through
my eyes lead me right back to you

fond moments progress
feeling relieved
I have drawn a rest

when I am able to forget
such troubled stress

what my brain once had suffered with



By Jonathan Grant McElroy

Loved other

what we have is worth so much more
and is why not being their makes me so mad
 I miss my arms  wrapped so tight around you
 but ill be back soon baby so don't be sad
 these emotions I feel for you
they are just a few
 that my heart so rapidly began to spew
I long for your sweet kiss and familiar touch
 dreams of you with
memories we made
 wait for me baby if its not asking too much
 your a beautiful rose that never fades
 and ignite this vibrant fire
 so bright inside
  I can not hide
 and every time  sitting
 while blankly gazing up at the ceiling
 a smile appears across my face
because I know
I have found my one in a million

By Jonathan Grant McElroy

Memories

Memories

Memories are like leaves

they grow

fade

and eventually

slowly pass away

By Jonathan Grant McElroy

Scrambled Ink

Puzzled

Puzzled

From behind closed doors to opposite ends of the world

lies to very significant pieces to a puzzle

which part has its place

stretching anywhere from north to south

east to west

the one who acquires

will soon admire

their piece of life in each others eyes

the force of life taken control

of what feels so invulnerable

but yet so weak

The ones we fall for

or soon to meet

in destinies timeline

we all

are beat

By Jonathan Grant McElroy

Scrambled Ink

Luck

Luck

Finding a four leaf clover

is in relation to finding the perfect one

yes there is always three leaves and two leaves

but why settle for less

when you have chance

to help you find the best

By Jonathan Grant McElroy

Scramble Ink

Period

Period

One simple little dot that set worlds apart

from start to end

the words you choose

will soon begin the narration of your life

that has been set in your hands

its up to you and only you

the people you love and the ones you lose

starting here

and ending there

the publisher of your life is always near

By Jonathan Grant McElroy

Scrambled Ink

Life within

Life Within

Stars, trees , skies, sun, moon, and Earth

all have one thing in common

all these have somewhat form of life

it has an effect

emotionally, physically, and spiritually

on someone's well being

something so calm

yet so powerful

yet the word life

or life itself

wouldn't be soon to be

if it weren’t for them

life wouldn’t be

so soon thought upon

By Jonathan Grant McElroy

Scrambled Ink

Frozen Captivity

Frozen Captivity

The winds howling at early dawn

picking up where the wolves left off

white blankets of snow

have masked a swan

beginning to walk

yet soon to trot

bitter winter

has taken one prisoner

rapid thoughts collide

as a puzzle should

my footprints erased

have left no trace

ice cold skin

and feeling of solitude

my heart slows down in search of space

one more breath

so slow to take

for it was too late

as the wolves began to chew

By Jonathan Grant McElroy

Scrambled Ink

Voices

Voices

A midnight walk to and from my local store

hearing voices that seem to quickly follow

while the clouds pull back on an everlasting walk

it began to pour

contemplating on night or day

i wish it were tomorrow

darkness overcomes

while street lamps illuminate

for life's worst nightmare has come alive

i have walked too far like a lined stranded bait

scared to breathe as though a thriller ride

should not i be afraid to die

what taunts these sudden fears is not for my eyes to see

hearing the moans and the cries like a long lost lullaby

my hope is all that is left

and is the key to set me free

lonesome winds turn to cold skies

which have all of a sudden left my mouth dry

my mind plays tricks in disguise to be complete

wishes turn to curses in the vast open desert

dying slowly

while my thoughts travel fast

in these past few days

seconds feel like hours

while i experience hurt

looking at myself

while my flesh was no more

i shed a tear

for every forgotten fear

distant

but still aware

i watch closely

and slowly begin to wave

for it is over

and so am i

life gone

in a blink of an eye

By Jonathan Grant McElroy

Scrambled Ink

time standing still

Time

Time set in place

worlds rotating backwards

is it past, present, or future

today or yesterday

what is tomorrow

when is tomorrow

days in a week

or years in a century

new species and new worlds

or is it new at all

what is

what was

or what will be

has it always been

which life are you in

which life are we in

does time exist

do these words exist

these words have been expressed by me

before the actual expression itself

love

hate

are they not the same

one ends

where one begins

days, months, years, millenniums

all in a nutshell

its up to your conscious to see

when

how

or even if you're able to crack it

little is big

and big is little

what's not is

and has always been

an hour glass is just a depth perception

where do you stand

where does time stand

in whose hands

should we plan

to get an insight on life span

stop your clocks

time is an illusion

are you confused

why

why not

the world has consumed time

all time is

is a motion

a motion which things you fill

that seem to exist

wake up

for there

is now here

night

day

all the same

sudden drop to your knees

in hope to pray

in delusional thoughts

a mistake was made

time was never here

and this time its to late

By Jonathan Grant McElroy

Scrambled Ink

Invisible Ink

ink flowing bold through my veins
as though the niagra were alive inside
a whirlpool overflowing with letters
has kept me estranged

tossed around like a puppet
on a treacherous ride
I have gained composure and started anew
before i think or envision pain
the words are swift to spew

grasping the pen as thought to pretend
sentences starting to bend
i search deep within
only to reveal a familiar friend
just before the urge to quick to click send
i obtain my quest
yet soon to begin
I've foreseen the end

By Jonathan Grant McElroy