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Hold my hand. Listen to my words
of sorrow.
Touching you, makes waiting
For tomorrow,
Easier.

Softly, a whisper,
A good morning, hello,
The sparkle of your laughter,
That lets me know,
That you are happy.

Do you remember,
The way we were, when young?
Of all the worlds to conquer,
Or the songs to be sung?

Did you wear, cute little dresses,
That covered up your knees
Or hold on to your Father's finger
And learn of birds and bees?

Did you ever go to a drive-in,
To eat hamburger deluxe with fries,
Then flirt and tease your boy friend,
By batting your pretty eyes?

Do you recall, first dances,
Proms, and other types of dates,
Or things that really bugged you
And other unlikeable traits?

Do you remember cruising
Up and down, First Avenue?
I remember those things.
Do you remember too?

Did you ever wonder,
Did you ever care,
What would happen to others,
If others weren't aware,
Of all the sad beginnings
And of the worldly pain,
That lives among us
And we see over, again?
There must be a better way,
For all of us to be.

I have wondered, many times,
If our life was meant to be,
Of growing older by the hour,
Until we are eighty-three,
I don't know,
Could be.

I press my hand to your cheek
And feel wet, softness.
Why do you weep?
I will kiss the sadness from your eyes
And make you happy.
Let your thoughts wander;
Think of fields of flowers,
Shining in the Sun
And of waves in motion,
Slapping on the sand,
While cool breezes,
Blow upon your face.

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I have been a wanderer,
Many years of my life.
I do not have close friends,
That surround me,
With attention or comfort.
Perhaps, because as a child,
I was a loner, never having
To rely on anyone.
Shy, bashful and introverted,
Were my ways.

Midnight strangers, dare to meet,
At the darkest hour of night,
In caverns, caves and deepest woods,
Where sunlight never peeks.
The grasping, clutching pull of
Hands, are tugging at the sleeve,
Of those who wish to depart from
Here, where darkness never leaves.
All the pities and sorrows of the
World, gather, all massed around
The entry to the depths of hell.
He lies, awaiting you, in shadowed
Corners.
Beware, if he offers you his hand,
For you will be dragged,
To the depths of oblivion.

I am but one person, in this world
And I will be what I will be.
I will march to my own drummer
And will sing my own sweet song.
Those of you, who don't like that,
Well, you don't have to march along.

There is a pizza, aptly named
The Idiot's Delight.
At this particular moment,
I'm the only idiot, in sight,
Sitting here, writing trite,
Words that rhyme
And don't.