Magazine Posts

When the Rose has lost its bloom.
When the wind has lost its sigh,
It will be time to leave the room;
It will be time to say goodbye.

I think of friends, day and night.
The thoughts bring me much delight.
I was once a shy, bashful child.
Now I miss the social contact style.
No one should be locked away,
Not for months; not even a day.

How many words
are stuck in my head?
Are they words of joy
or words of dread?
I am uncertain, so
many words are to be said.

Is it now Sedition or Treason?
The US citizens need to know,
For at stake is our security,
Perhaps it's your time to go.

Away goes the night.
Away go the words,
For my writing is now
Becoming much too absurd.

The new trucks are silent,
running on Natural gas.
The noise when emptying cans,
rattles the window pane of glass.

Why won't I draw
like I used to do?
This questions for me,
not meant for you.

I used a pencil,
seldom a pen,
drawing quite often,
alone in my den.
Faces of others,
from photos
or a magazine.
Some thing that came
easy, it did seem.
To quit my drawing,
so many years ago.
Perhaps I just need
to restart the show.

The ancient sound of a
Sirens' wail,
sends an electrical charge
down my spine.
The wailing assaults
my old ears,
creating confusion on
what the noise.
The loss of life against
the the rocks of the Sea;,
while the bones of
ships ay across the sand.
Beware you all, when you
go to Sea.
Cover your ears from
the Siren's sound.

"There will be no tomorrow"
is what she said.
It made no sense to me,
no thought in my head,
to help me now, to understand
the life we once had
is no longer grand,
for no matter the love
I give to she,
her memories are all gone
of our life's history.

I am going to work hard
to really try
being better to you;
not asking why.
I must stay close
by your side,
for the remaining time
of this ugly ride.

It is now 5 am,
which is all I will say.
My time for some sleep
has eroded away.

Do you not understand?
Can you not see,
How much I need you,
To stay here with me?