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The moonlight, seen through eyes of glass,
lighten the dark as we look past
the trying times, in this life ours
of love, fear and joyless sorrows.

Life can be a pit.
A deep dark hole,
filled with hate
and loves hyperbole.

The Moon is full,
all silver and bright
on this early morning,
before first light.

A feeling of pressure,
building inside,
where my emotions
are trying to hide.
Should I seek help,
Or simply decide
and ask for forgiveness
with you at my side?

Why do I keep buying sketch pads?
A good question, I've said to me,
for I do not have the time
to draw figures or things
having the satisfaction, which it brings.
Don't give up; a talent is there.
In the beginning, I'm told your art
will be fair, as you progress,
after your fresh start.
Appreciate your part.

"It came to me in a dream"
he said.
I thought it was sleep clouding
my head,
But it wasn't, as my heart filled
with dread,
at that moment in time, I thought I
was dead.
Awakening now for water, I went back
to bed.

Plants are sated
with rain downpour
thirst no more.

Sadness, seeps from your eyes,
Trickling down cheeks, red
From Springs, harsh winds.
Cry the tears of sadness,
As emotions, scratch and dry,
To the surface of your being.
Lonely, are those who wander
Down this path of life,
Never stopping, never touching.
Standing there, alone.

Light of day
Brings forth the noise
of surrounding sound

Don't leave me now
for I have found
our mortal life
is more profound.
Social contact is indeed
a relationship I need.
To talk to others
through rhyme or verse,
can bring forth discussions
of thoughts, unrehearsed.
Please stay close; don't leave
for if you do, I will bereave.