Magazine Posts

A great sadness, lies inside of me
And subverts, my daily thought of thee.
A loss that, is ever so chagrin
And want not, to keep it within.

Just do, one day at a time.
That's all I will, ask of you.
Be the best, that you can be,
It's what I expect you to do.

I spend too much, of my time,
In searching for words, that will rhyme.
Why is that, you ask of me,
For words are abundant and are free?
I wish I knew, was my reply
But I must always rhyme or try.

Sometimes, the lost memories, from the past,
Invoke images, that elude my feeble grasp.
I think of those, from long ago
And wonder about, where did they go?

What happens to all of the sorrow,
If there is never one more tomorrow?

Can I be, any less a man,
If I don't understand, who I am?
The answer, isn't for me to say,
But for your reply, on this day.

There is a light, inside my head,
That, on some occasion, is turned on.
When that happens, thoughts spew out
And I can see, what I'm about.

When they come, from near and far,
Some by boat, most by car,
Just to see about, who you are,
Do you now feel, like a star?

I can never, explain to you,
How I love, the things you do.
For the words, should sing and dance
And rekindle, any lost romance.

Why's the morning grass, covered with dew,
Reminding me of my love for you?
Is it because, on some future day
The love we knew, will go away?
It is not for us to understand.
Life will end and be so grand.

A poem can be, like a child.
Sometimes so meek and sometimes so wild.
Does this bode well, I ask of you?
For raising both, is what we do.

Will our love die, without a whimper
Or does it go away, like a roar?
Is the pain of losing, very hurtful,
Like nothing, we have ever felt before?
Do we fight through, all the suffering,
As we look for love, even more?
I ask of you, this question to help me,
For nothing else and nothing more.