Magazine Posts

Write not the words,
your thoughts or your deeds,
for no one in Government
seems to care about your needs.
A Co-vid relief check
in March it was sent.
I didn't choose to leave work.
You shut down our employers.
The responsibility you shirk,
while you argue in Congress therein
when both parties behave like a jerk.
What you do to the citizens is a sin.
Now, get back to work during
the governments failure, in the din
and help all the citizens recover,
a way which was lost,
Provide the needed relief,
no matter the cost.

I don't believe you are ignorant.
I don't believe you are dumb.
I do believe it was Flim Flam,
to which you did succumb.
You did not use facts or reason,
to find holes in his presentation,
as his glibness, his promises,
confused many in our great nation.

I am not a poet,
I am not a bard,
for many of my writings
are actually quite hard.
So difficult to write,
not many but a few.
I will write for myself,
but do write for you.

I have no time. No time to be free.
I'm sorry my darling, for you
Take the life out of me.

Spin the wheel.
Spin it well,
we're caught in the cycle
of an economic Hell.
We've found the right method
to destroy the tax base,
just keep your distance,
and mask up your face.
You need to provide relief.
You must do it now,
for many a small business
will take their last breath.
An economic change,
the slow spiral of economic death.

I'm just an old fool,
yes it's what I am,
lucky in friendship
with many a friend.
Friends, who I no longer see.
Growing older, just like me.

Where are the words?
What can I say?
For they have vanished
And gone far away.

A great tragedy,
A great loss.
What will it take
To get back on the Hoss.

The light grew dim
within his eyes.
Is this what happens
when a person dies?

Life can be a beautiful thing.
When you're gone, sadness will spring
out from your soul. On its way
to bring heart ache. A mournful sing;
a dirge, a sadness, no matter the cost,
a terrible thing, when another is lost.
Lost to their family. Now full of pain,
while only their memory will remain.

Don't worry my love,
it is just me.
Remembering our life
as it use to be.
To meet with our friends
and our whole family,
to go out to dinner
and celebrate with thee.

Is this writing craft
the skill made for me
or am I just pretending
I know I am a wanna be?

A young boy, shy and forlorn,
quiet since the day he was born.
His only shoes were quite scuffed,
clothing was clean but tattered and torn.
He played with others
when ever he could,
but most of the time was by himself,
behind the house, deep in the Wood.
This shy, retiring , bashful guy
would get anxious and
sometime he would cry,
for someone to help him.
To tell him "this is your day."
Play when you want and
do whatever you say,
but treat all people as a friend
and if you do that for life
it will be real and not "Let's pretend."