Magazine Posts

Through the eyes
of the beholder,
her beauty came through.
She has skin like satin,
to name just a few.

Her lips the color of
the reddest rose,
the eyes were, as if,
made of coal.

When she smiled, her teeth,
white as new snow.
She was short, but was
proportioned, just so.

You would never leave her,
for there's no place to go.

When a brain cell
dies,
Must we then
surmise,
there are no chances just,
tries.
To health, they say no
lies.
The Worlds has too many
whys.

How can you be brave,
hour after hour,
when love is now gone
and you no longer have power.

The worst thing that happens,
when you do this today,
is giving up, leaving,
as you run away.

A new day,
actively being aware,
working hard to survive,
no time to spare.

Hit the "bricks running",
don't mind the stair,
many tasks lie ahead,
no time to spare.

Danced the light, lightly,
reflection in her eyes.
A beautiful smile,
leading to sighs.

Men who adored her,
young but unwise,
pursued her with passion,
leading to sighs.

Sleeping was her desire,
not wanting to rise,
she was wanted by others,
leading to sighs.

We sat on the couch.
It was yesterday.
We sat closely,
no pushing away.

You surprised me,
hadn't heard this before,
you told me then,
"I don't like you, no more."

Your eyes, glazed over,
your look was afar,
as you sit near me,
I know, not, where you are.

You have become,
physically mean.
Swearing and hitting,
has become your routine.

Having mixed feelings,
uncertain what to do.
Is this when I leave,
bidding you Adieu?

Why am I angry?
Why do I care?
Why don't I leave,
going, who knows where?

To see a loved one,
as mental acuity fades,
while my own
personality, jades.

I'm angry at myself,
for losing control.
Not a good Caregiver,
not fulfilling my role.

Madness, becomes you,
she said to me.
I write these words,
thinking only of thee.

My mind in a twirl,
longing to be,
with you again,
though you don't like me.

He was no longer here.
He no longer came.
I feel quite badly,
not remembering his name.

I see many people,
many looking the same,
but I still have an issue,
not remembering his name.

Perhaps, you have seen,
all those who remain,
to me it's a mystery,
not remembering his name.

Many the evening,
ignorance was to blame
as I keep struggling,
not remembering his name.

I was sitting, in the back,
corner of this old "watering hole."
Young and single, was I.
Alone, for the first time, in my young life.
Looking for adventure, knowing not
what to expect, when a young lady
approached me saying, "You know dancing
is free?
That began my evening of learning to dance,
While, in my heart I wanted romance.
Please understand when I tell you this tale,
it was a make-believe story, about what
I thought would be the way my life
would look to thee.

He arrives for breakfast,
I do know his name.
Recognize his clothing.
It's always the same.

Pajama bottoms, pattern I see,
are the same,
morning or night.
Perhaps, that's his only attire?

PJ's, a safe way to go.
I've seen her 10 months.
Always the same clothes.
May have others, I suppose.

Time flows bye here,
quicker, when thee,
count in numbers,
one, two, three.