Magazine Posts

Do I confuse you,
with what I write?
If it is so, you best,
hang on tight.

I'll write about,
things, no longer there,
like skin with no wrinkles,
and no more white hair.

Youth is a fleeting tract,
get back on the bus.
There may not be room
for both of us.

Before the time,
you came into view,
there was no one,
I knew exactly like you.

So here we sit at
the end of our life,
you are my love,
my beautiful wife.

Too many memories,
when I reflect.
Why am I still standing,
why am I erect?

I should be,
in a hole in the ground,
or my ashes tossed
in the wind, blown around.

The life we wanted,
has rushed away.
A slow goodbye,
day after day.

I will leave,
there is no tomorrow,
all is sadness,
mostly all sorrow.

Does it matter,
anymore?
No one is counting,
no keeping score.

After the night,
comes the dawn.
My life has become,
one, huge yawn.

Should I be sorry,
or just be sad?
Better be a Boy Scout,
that would be rad.

Words are flowing,
as if my bank broke,
so, scribble I will,
it's not a joke.

Do you now know?
Can you understand,
I'm no longer strong,
but still hear the band.

Find a flaw,
in the words, I write.
Tell me, please,
are the words too trite?

I sit and wait,
with osmolality.
Is it wrong to
have a personality?

Here we go,
one more time
with feelings,
love sublime.

Tell me true,
say it today.
If you don't,
I may go away.

My love for you,
is strong with feeling.
Not having your memories,
has my mind reeling.

Forget me now,
would be best
for you.
It's not a test.

We can be many things,
in this life of ours.
Pick something worthwhile,
not measured in hours.

Do you remember,
when we first met?
We were both young,
my ears were still wet.

Now, here we are,
after so many years
and our well-being,
is full of cheers.

Why do you resist,
help from your friend,
when you probably know,
it's a means to the end?

Swarming clouds of memories,
passing through my mind.
Why do these thoughts
persist in this time?

Words confused or incomplete,
as they often do,
when I think about our life,
and my thoughts are about you.

Being old
and a fool,
may have its
advantages.

You can speak,
for no matter what you say,
they laugh, shaking their head
and walk away.

He is a legend,
in his own mind.
A real standout,
surely, one of kind.

He talks about him,
even on how or more.
Listen carefully,
just don't keep score.