Magazine Posts

Far off, life's beaten path,
he trod with weary foot.
On a mission, to survive,
his loss of mental state.

A loner, he was often called,
yet he still had close friends.
No interest in idle talk,
desiring to make life amends.

He loved many, it was said,
in a broad, platonic way,
persisting in his lot of life,
satisfying his soul, today.

Talking was good for him,
if about those he loved.
Cherishing those he knew,
as friends, from above.

There is something to be said,
about being shy and retiring.
It has nothing to do, other than,
it's present, in our wiring.

It is hard to believe, sometimes,
I was a shy, bashful, lout
and afraid to be in crowds,
until I realized, I could stand out.

A glob of words,
is what I think.
Some are great,
some just stink.
To paper they
will go in random jots.
I don't know why,
or have just forgot.
I need to escape,
from the place,
I'm in disgrace.
Why is my wife,
behaving this way?
She bit an attendant,
on this day.
I feel bad, not what to do,
knowing it won't help,
to yell at you.
Do you love me,
as you say you do
or is it something else,
waiting for you?

Here I sit,
on the edge
of my bed,
up an hour,
words in my head.
Words are there,
but my hand
won't work.
Is it the
work I shirk?
I don't know,
but I need sleep,
if my body,
it's soul to keep.

Through the garden,
along the path,
during the evening.
Pleasant for me,
the scent of the flowers,
sounds of pleasure,
from the one,
strolling next to me.

Her body, now
and empty shell.
Her inner soul
I knew so well.

My mind is stuck,
in neutral, a rut.
I'd talk some more,
saying nothing or what?

All I want,
is a hug and kiss.
My heart is lonely,
all I will say,
before my Soul
burns away.
I write but can't control,
the thought
but I know,
I cannot.
My brain is tired,
my soul is scorched.
Why must this
happen, being torched?
I ask of you,
please help, please.
Don't make me,
get on my knees.
You aren't just,
not even fair,
so, I will
leave you now,
you won't know where,

Long were the days,
fraught with little sleep.
Counting sheep, didn't work,
as he wasn't "Ll'll Bo Peep.

Press forward,
with your skills,
talent will arise
and you will be,
very pleased,
perhaps, even
surprised.

I sit alone.
Alone I sit.
She's not here,
not one bit.

Yesterday she loved me,
today was a change,
for she wanted nothing to
do with me.

She called me "her husband."
Now that is gone and
she wants nothing to do with
me. "Who are You?"
Those words, hurtful but
I understand.

My emotions are
charred and burnt.
All I feel is,
sadness.

Yet I know,
she still loves me.
I'll live with that,
as long as I can.

Such a joy,
you are to see.
Thank you, love
taking care of me.

Isn't it great,
being this age?
The World awaits,
turn the page.

Move toward
new adventure,
post your words,
avoid the censure.