I love living, every moment of my life
And I love seeing all the people,
Who are real,
For living is so much easier
If you love the people,
With who you deal.

I love to wake up, each morning,
To see the sun rise,
And be on it's way,
For living is so much easier,
If you love and live,
From day to day.

I love touching you,
And having you near.
I love to see the love light
In your eyes.
For living is so much easier
If all is love
And there are no goodbyes.

Why wax and wain
of a sad refrain.
It makes no sense,
in this experience,
when whines and cries
portend our demise.

The randomness of words,
lay on my plate.
Too many words may come
and they will suffocate.
The thoughts that are now
running through my head,
wishing they were happy,
but No; fearful instead
The words have become hateful;
not what they should be,
for I care for my own
and for strangers too,
as life has given pause
of what one can do.
A scary situation. It's been hard,
for if you are not diligent
and let your down your guard
you could be the victim
of Co-vid nineteen.

I do not like
the words that I write,
for some are cruel
and others quite trite.
Has the hate of one person
ruined my one good trait,
or must I rethink the words
and I can write and wait?