Magazine Posts

I'm here,
it's where I be.
Many memories,
but no one to see.

What happened
to the old me?
I was blind before,
now I can see.

What happens next,
anything or
nothing at all?
I need more,

information to
provide or mention,
for a choice,
or a direction.

I just heard the answer.
Not what I was hoping to hear.
As stated, you have Stage 4.
life expectancy, less than a year.

Well that was not a surprize.
for sick has been a sensation,
for quite a time. It's OK.
No Chemo or Radiation,

Move into a different care,
which is OK. The odd part,
is I feel stronger than I have
in many a year. Onward/upward.

Was it a shock,
or a hidden fear,
when I was told,
"Less than a year?"

"Three to four months",
not wanting to hear.
I won't be around,
not even a year.

Wait one! I'm the one,
who's dying,
so why are you,
the one trying?

To take all the
minutes and time,
away from me,
my family entwined.

A grand gesture,
I most certainly say,
but thank you NO!
Not on my day.

I was lost,
a hole in my heart.
Your caring ways,
helped to heal that part.

What to do,
when you're old and grey,
with long memories,
going away.

You may become stoic,
when seen every day,
but in reality, your fears,
are kept at bay.

There is a time.
There is a place.
It's not now,
you're in my face.

I refuse to go,
quietly into the night.
I place my trust in God,
to do what is right.

How long must I,
try to be brave,
by covering up the truth,
trying not to misbehave?

I try to put on,
a Stoic look,
suppressing emotions,
into a mental nook.

From the beginning,
when light first arose,
writing the words,
changing it to prose.

When did it start?
Oh, how long ago,
when the World was right,
for it was our show.

Our turn to dance,
until the cows came home,
or dance with others,
or dance alone.

My world has turned,
crazy and grey.
My lovely wife,
has gone away

The room was quiet.
A voice of mute.
She smiled, her eyes,
so very cute.

Beauty is,
in the eyes of the beholder,
what else in life,
can make you bolder?

Life can be beautiful,
as you know.
At some time, it will
come to an end, so,

my writing is approaching
a point where I may'
be required to
or be unable to say,

the words clearly,
which reside in my mind.
It is OK, when that happens,
for in this world, you've been kind.

Life is a race,
and will always end.
I thank you in advance,
for being my friend.