Contributor Posts

I want to see you,
everyday,
but am hindered when
Dementia is in the way.

Why does this disease,
eat at our soul,
When wanting to love,
in our own Rock & Roll.

You don't understand me,
not anymore,
as our remaining years,
are becoming no more.

My love for you,
is staying strong,
for it's with you,
where I now belong.

Today, after so many years,
I'm giving myself, permission
to grieve, in a manner,
which benefits me.

Tears are powerful
tools and occur when
emotions are torn, to the core.
I won't hide from my sadness,
not anymore.

My 55 chevy,
was loaded with gas.
I was aboard to
head over the Pass.

A 286, V-8, the power,
I would speed up,
as I drove
hour after hour.

Photo shared by Heather Cox Richardson from Letters from an American

When I awake, in the morning,
hearing the World news,
I want to run and hide,
it's what I would choose.

We, as people,
are killers, don't stare,
we will kill others,
with little fan fare.

Another mass shooting,
in another town.
What are the reasons,
for shooting kids down?

The World, we live in,
is hateful, I see.
What has happened
to the Great Society?

No more the killing.
No more the strife.
No more the taking
of another one's life.

I'm losing my love,
a little every day,
her memory fades,
keeps going away.

When I sit with her,
close to my side,
I still see my,
young, lovely bride.

How can I ignore her,
why do I try,
as I see,
more memories die.

She says she love me,
and wants to stay.
Please tell me why,
at night, I run away?

You only live once,
but die a thousand times,
when parents and loved ones,
leave, it's very sad times.

My life is chaotic.
It is a mess.
I'm losing control,
I now confess.

Rattle the cage,
please let me stay,
I'm missing you now.
I've gone away.

Thinking of you,
as I sit in this room,
sans the memories
of impending gloom.

I'm at a loss,
knowing not, what to do,
when you say,
"I no longer love you."

These words, I hear,
fill up my head.
The worst fear of all,
You are not my stead.

I know it's not you,
with your belligerent display,'
for when you are angry,
I will walk away.

I tire again, after
hearing these words,
"It's not her fault"
have become absurd.

I may never see you,
in this life again.
One thing is certain,
you will always be my friend.

I am writing, now,
with zero restraint,
will write words,
praying they won't taint.

The subtle malice,
of this draft,
hopefully, it's sane,
more likely it's daft.

My mind is behaving,
like a pinball machine,
with thoughts, crazy,
or somewhere in between.

Not good to write,
in this careless way,
unless your heart's
in utter dismay.

It's becoming too much,
when my tears,
fall on the paper,
when I am writing.