Magazine Posts

If I could capture your Soul
and place it in a jar,
I would carry it with me
knowing where you are.

Slow ticks the clock
as we await the end
of this lifetime, our
broken dreams trend.

I now write of sadness.
No longer the joy
as life drags on,
day after day.
There is no fun
no time to play
when I visit her
every day.
What kind of life
is this to have,
when your loved one
has no memories
of being together.

The glass dangles
from my hand
as I search my
soul and demand
answers to the riddle
of what is to be,
when life ends
the likes of me.

Why must I live today
when my love, my life
has gone astray?
I am missing my wife
as she used to be,
when we were all happy
and were always free
to share our memories
of what life was to be,
based upon all we knew,
the love of you and me.

The most difficult part
in my life today,
is living apart,
when she asks me to stay.

Forever is my love for you.
It doesn't matter what you do.
Just be there. I will too
as I think again of only you.

She is lost
in a World,
she does not know.
Memories are piqued,
by pictures seen
of happier times,
of long ago.
Conversations consist
of questions,
asked of me.
"Why can't you
stay with me here?"
Looking at pictures
of our two boys is
an enigma, to she,
knowing not
their names.
A sadness exists,
it shouldn't be,
for this is
her life, living
with sans memories.

How do you love,
without being a fool?
To tell the truth
about the feelings you have,
before it's too late.
By not embarrassing you,
would be the first step.
I apologize in advance,
if it's what I do.
I have a great respect,
which will always live on,
after the Sun stops shining
and we await the new dawn.

The end of a life
is drawing near,
waiting for Death,
to next appear.
The thought of Death,
scares me not, see,
as long as you,
keep a memory of me,
in your heart, where
I hope it to be.

Write to paper,
all the words, I must,
before my mind,
fills with mental dust.

I now live to write,
about subjects I choose,
as I write about thoughts,
I do not wish to lose.

Please bear with me,
on this grey day,
while senility is starting
to find places to stay.
I must write, words true,
doing it for all,
but mostly for you.

What happens to life,
when your brain
starts to rust,
while your memories
become nothing but dust.
Having not the answer,
with a reply to you.
I will always try
doing what I do,
loving your sweet image
and always be true,
with my heart,
which belongs to you.