WHO I BE
Here I am, that’s who I be!
Limping around like a drunkard at sea.
Tossed out of bars cause they think that I’m lit.
Truth of the matter, I’m just tryin’ to fit.
Cops see me walking, I’m doin no harm,
Mindin’my business, heading back to the farm.
They stop me with questions;
I understand it’s their gig.
But it’s a constant reminder that my life can suck big.
I find myself looking for a woman who can see
past the façade that appears to be me.
Wrapped in a package that’s hard to get past,
But still always hoping that someone will last.
Trying to see what lies just beneath,
very close to the surface and just out of reach.
Why am I doing it, making a try?
I just get the shoulder from most who pass by.
But I’ve got to keep trying, to many chagrin.
Can’t give up my dreaming of finding an in;
To the heart of a woman who will let me begin.
To show what I’m made of, the soft side of me.
I’ll always keep trying, “Cause that’s who I BE.”By Joshua Rossman, June 20, 2004


Mother’s Day

Mother’s day is celebrated only once a year
The day I give to the woman whom I find so dear
Others find her fetching, words of her divine
I think she is extraordinary, so glad she is all mine
I share her with the world though ‘cuz it would not be fair
To keep her in my heart alone, when so many others care
I know I can be selfish, but I’m growing on my own
Pencil me in for three visits a week when you’re living at a “home”

Happy Mothers’s Day
~Love, Josh
2010


Written in memory of Sara Landolphi: She died that night
Auto Accident: Dec. 16, 1993…Josh was 15
Composed in: Ms. Bradford: Sophomore English, September 7, 1996.

LOSS OF A FRIEND
By Josh Rossman

It’s Christmas break and we’re two for the road.
The hockey game cancels and up goes our load.
Two become six in that small Chevy Blazer.
No seat belts for all, we don’t need safety measures.

“We’re young and naïve,” were the thoughts in our heads.
Little did we know a friend soon would be dead.
Sara, Oh Sara if you could just hear me now,
this may be your choice, but I feel awful somehow.

By not buckling up you put yourself in the ground.
It wasn’t my turn to go. You left me hanging around.
Am I the lucky one? Only you and God know;
though it seems that my journey is painful and slow.

You talk to me often; I feel you around.
I’m still struggling with my life, which I haven’t yet found.
I wish you peace wherever your spirit rests.
It’s as you wanted; I suppose for the best.

As for me; never you worry, fate pushes me ahead.
My mind remains kicking, while my body feels dead.
GOD only knows why he sent me back down.
I’ll seek and I’ll struggle until I have found
the reason for being, for movin’ along.
I’ll put the pieces together while singing a song.

“SOME FOLKS TRUST TO REASON,
OTHERS TRUST THEIR MIND.
I DON’T TRUST TO NOTHIN’
BUT I KNOW I’LL COME OUT FINE.”

(From Greatful Dead, cut: “Playing in the Band.
Album: Working Mans’ Dead)