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Posted by MFish

Those words that come to me at night
have meaning to me.
Perhaps, if you like what I say,
the words will return.
Trying hard to write something new,
that will have meaning to all,
not just a few,
has become harder for me to do.
Some words are lame; simply text.
Nothing to say or do something next,
but stop writing. Write a long story,
hear some music, sing a song,
be inspired or upset about
something, old or new.
It really depends upon you.

Our life is a shamble,
at least it is to me,
for we no longer talk freely.
You speak words, yes you do,
but there the same words,
that you say, over and over again.
Every few minutes you will say,
"I liked that place,
what was it called?",
not recalling anything
I'd told you before.
My patience has become strained,
as I repeat my answer again.
I do not say I told you that before.
Reminding myself, it's not
her fault, not in any way,
while I continue to see you,
slowly slipping, slipping away.

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