There Must Be a God

I woke up this morning feeling better than ever.
The sun was out.
The birds were chirping.
Time to embrace the day.
Oh, there must be a God.

I had a dream last night and I was flying in the air.
I try and I try. I try to remember.
The only thing I remember was my friend flying with me.
That very friend just walked by me.
Oh, there must be a God.

When orange leaves dance with the wind on the ground
When they swerve and spin between my feet
When a radical idea shines the lightbulb above my head
That’s when I know
Oh, there must be a God.

There I am, with my gold star out
My pride around my neck and my identity shining bright
And there they go, walking right past me
A challenge, a glimmer, who can be the most peaceful
Oh, there must be a God.

One foot forward, another foot forward
The San Andreas Fault in my stomach splits wider than ever
I grab my wrapped delight marvel at the devious temptation
But I’m not the only one marveling at it. Other, poorer mouths are too.
Oh, there must be a God.

Circle, circle, discussion, debate
Logic-Analytics-Presentation-Success
Now, it’s my turn

Oh, there must be a God.

My hands are mining for led and crumbs as I walk home.
It’s dusk now but my energy is still high
I haven’t fulfilled my promise to life
A burst of energy with the oath to live to the fullest
Oh, there must be a God!

Boom and zoom, screech and noise
I’m in the backseat on a mission to kill
Faster and faster the vibe grows greater
Though, of course the music maker lives to the side of where we drive
Oh, there must be a God.

All these shots, you’d think I was a firing squad
Clean out the wound with disinfected loaves of bread
Release the split of the dead sea and fill it up with water
I can’t remember how this night began
Oh… m…d.

Damn, last night was story-worthy
I lost my head but it was still worth it
A jackhammer is breaking up pavement that makes my skull
But it’s ok, the sun is still shining like yesterday
Oh, there must be a God.

I’m killing the time by scrolling through the book of faces
I haven’t thought about you in years
Since I’m wrapped by a blanket of community
But then you show up and commit your duty or reminding me of the past
Oh, there must be a God.

An article flashes with a horrifying site
How could I forget that today was the day?
I now have six million reasons, now, to be ashamed
This poem isn’t about them although they all say the same thing in their picture:
Oh, there must be a God.

My phone jingles and rings to break my concentration
The familiar voices of my DNA project
I can smile and feel their invisible bodies hug me
A checkpoint in the week to make it all worth the while
Oh, there must be a God.

And now I lay in my soft college cloud
Smirking at all the possible warmth I could feel
My body laughs to itself as it runs free with it’s release
The sun is still shining and I feel greater than ever
Oh, there must be a God.

Regardless of what I say or do
Regardless of the mistakes I make
Regardless of the flaws that sculpt me right
Whatever happens I know it’s because I whole heartedly believe
Oh, there must be a God.

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Mispeld Erors

This poast is maik mah payrants crinj (Onlee be cuz i luv yoo bothe)!

Resently, i haf bean told that mi engrish spilling has succed. Quit frnkly it is ahn ishyoo i hav suferd withh awl my lyf. Gramir is ay wurs sichuashon. Sumtymes i mis spel tings wen tipeeng in ann exited frenzee. The bettur the ideyuh, the fastir i tned 2 tipe. I luve to right and sumetyms thaat is a gipht and kirs.

Wen aye wus in midle skool i had a grait ideeyuh. The ideeyuh wsa a siens fikshon story that wood even2ally resalt in ay trilojy seerees. Threy Hunded payges lader aye wood reelise that this 3hundy paij eppik wuz uderly retawrdid. Mi favorate videeyo gaym groweeng upp wuz Haylo Too. Haylo Too was alsoa a tree gaym eppik baced in spays fiteeng aleeuns hoo vowd to deastroi Urth. Thair wuz 1 hearho hoo wood leed the huyman rais to viktorey jus lyk mi booc. Mi reyulisashon at furst maid mey feal stoopyd but aphtur i reyulised i cood rea-right it.

Sins ten aye have ree-ritten that saim stoaree fife tyms ant ges wut? IT STIL SUX! Four know dat stoaree iz awn thea bak bernir but I no i will rea-right it ughen sumdai. Untyl den ay haf rittun een menee difurent weighs. i right skrips. i right shoart stoaries. i right poa-ems and blawgs onlyn. I dew mehney tings.

Know, I reeyulize peepel (spesificuley mah payrents) ma feal lyk dis blawg is mawckeeng tem fore korekting mah mistaiks. I grayvly uhpresheate ur insite. Everee dime i poast a blawg and i mayk dose erors it wawrms my hart dat u goys wood goa owt of ur way to corect mee and elp me get bedder. I no thad wit tym I kan improov. I no thad wit practis I wil improove. I no aym nawt de best but at leest aym, in sertain weighs, more creeyative than most.

That is why I will succeed. That is why I will thrive. I didn’t write this with the intent of mocking or rebelling. I wrote that to illustrate the worst of what I could be, because in order to solve a problem you first have to identify it and face it head on. I treat my issues with writing as a fear because it is fear. I’m always afraid to write. I’m always afraid to press the publish button. Sometimes I’m impatient but believe me I’m afraid.  I wrote that to show what I am aware of. But I’m trying real hard, my fellow writers. I will practice with pen in hand and I will crack the books open more often. That’s a promise I can make.