Things Going Well

I'm not used to things going well
I get suspicious when they do
When my journey seems not to be to hell
But a pleasant experience to go through

It's like, what's next?
What's the twist in this sordid tale?
What problem will leave me vexed
What frustration will make me wail?

Sometimes, things just go good for a little bit
And while it's good to use the downtime as prep
It's also fine to live a little without panic or regret
Take your reward. Be strong after doing your rep

Sure, this too will pass.
But, y'know, don't forget to focus on the "this"
Right now, it's here. It wont last
For now, it's ok to embrace the bliss

Grief

Grief is too important to hold back
But also too important to force
It is genuine, a defence and attack
The body overwhelmed with remorse

I have felt grief in many ways.
Sometimes, when I didn't expect.
Often short, elsewise for days.
But I can't feel true grief as a sign of respect.

Most grief, has been for those I knew.
Family, friends, young, old.
But there are others that broke through.
Essential strangers whose parting left me cold.

Those whose art would come no longer.
An idol whose acts would inspire.
They are rare, for me, leaving grief stronger.
Left me standing a little less higher.

I respect grief a lot indeed
As my companion in the darkest place
Feel grief, if you ever need
And don't, if you need not its embrace

Storyteller

Stories, stories, I wish I could weave a better tale
Sit longer than the time it takes for a rhyme
And craft, chapter by chapter before it grows stale
And I feel I must move on in my mind

Poets of old wrote epics most grand
They would carry on for verse after verse
But, whether prose or not prose, they are planned
And require dedication to which I am sadly adverse

I wish it weren't so. 
I know I could build myself.
Practice commitment to a character.
See an arc which curves slowly over time.
Not be rushed by my self-imposed weekly deadline.
Grow into maybe a more mature author who tells something worth retelling.

But I am comfortable in my silly lines.
And I still feel I like I am exploring new ground.
So, for now, I'll stick with where this path winds.
Although, one day, maybe a longer tale will be found.

Hypocrites

Sometimes my muscles don't work and I don't know why
Like, I want to get out of bed but there I still lie
I'm using my energy, summoning all my mind's strength
Just to find out my body isn't operating on that wavelength

Beyond the many issues I have with mornings and morning people
I want to use this silly story to talk a little about free will
Like, we don't do what's best for us, a lot of the time
Cleaning is effort so what's the harm in a bit of grime?

It's important to remember that everyone does these things
We're hypocrites with every song we try to sing
At different levels, sure. But we can all do better.
No one follows good advice down to the last letter.

I need to remember this - We are people, we have flaws. 
Because I now am often teacher, so I need to give myself pause.
Because, with every good intention, students do things wrong.
Not because they weren't listening, or because they aren't skilled or strong.

We are people. We're odd. Sometimes it's hard to get out of bed.
All that's needed is to remember there's more than machines inside a head.