Magazine Posts

If I enjoy living,
please tell me why,
I fight depression.
When I am happy,
no other person is happier
but when I am sad,
how depressing.

I must be a paradox,
to my friends,
those that I have.

Moods make the
personality, but we
are not supposed to be
moody.
Perhaps, we are not
supposed to have moods
but be even tempered or
mechanical.

Tell me that you love me,
say the words to me.
Tell me that you love me,
and I will always be,
your love forever.

Take my hand and lead me
to the place that angels dwell,
among the pines and fern groves,
where wild flowers tell,
of their existence and their presence.

Walk with me, beside the water,
hear the sound of a bubbling brook,
let the scents and sounds surround you
and be sure to take a look.
Can you see the color? Can you hear
the sound?
Can you see the love that shines,
when you are around?

Do you know my name, or does it
really matter?
Will I remember or forget,
engaged in idle chatter
or will you leave me alone?

Loving many, may give you pleasure
and keep your evenings full
but knowing, that love is absent,
makes your love untrue.

They say that talk is cheap
and only action speaks for me,
but I will tell you,
that though,my words may be hollow,
I still think of you
and the words you spoke to me.

I feel this great compulsion
to create or to write,
as if some, unseen force,
drives me towards a goal
that exists only in my mind.

This comprehension of an
invisible being, inside me,
clawing to get out,
forcing me to write,
when, by rights,
I should be working.

The body is willing
but my mind has no direction,
unable to concentrate,
on one, pure thought.

It's not easy, being lonely,
especially, when surrounded
by friends.
But when your good,
nothing is difficult.
I can find myself in
pits of sorrow,
covered with my own
self pity,
feeling sad,
for no reason.

Goodbye cynics,
one and all.
Goodbye, farewell,
to you.
Keep your comments,
to yourself,
for I don't care
to know,
what you think or
if you do at all.

Have you seen all the people,
walking down the street?
Some are strange and funny
and some I'd like to meet,
to say hello, how are you,
with meaning and with care.
To embrace and kiss in public
and not worry, that people stare,
at my naked feelings.

Listen, to a loves whisper,
can you hear the sound,
in the voices of your friends
or the laughter of children playing?
Listen!

Being lonesome, is not being lonely,
for lonely people are lacking friends.
Lonesome people miss their
surroundings or their friends
and loved ones.
Wishing to be alone, at moments,
is looked upon, by some, as
being anti social,
when, in fact, people have
different needs or if you will,
a different tolerance of others.
Don't be surprised, if I seek
to be alone, away from you.

When I grow up, I want to be,
all the good things you want of me,
like
considerate.