Contributor Posts

I love the flowers, in the Spring,
When the temperature, does start to climb,
While all the song birds, that sing,
Does make the joy of life, sublime.

There can be no ending,
Without a beginning,
At least, that's what I say.
There can be no tomorrow,
Without a yesterday.

With all the wind, came the rain,
To soak the ground, around the flowers,
With an occasional ray of Sun, through
A window pane, gave promise of showers,
Mixed with Sun breaks with no disdain
Of the picnics that last for hours.

I would rather laugh today
And worry not, about tomorrow,
For laughter, is the best way,
Not grief, agony or sorrow.

There is a recluse, inside of me,
That is trying hard, to be set free.
I desire to let everyone know,
But I can't, just can't let it go.

I'm such a coward,
I can't face mortality.
Afraid of losing my
Love, to life's finality.

My Soul, of glass,
Lies shattered,
At my feet.

In another life,
I will try hard,
To be better
Than this.
To leave a mark
Of a lasting accomplishment.

Ego's come,
Ego's go.
Where to?
I do not know.

No matter what you say,
No matter what you do,
The only thing that matters,
Is what it does to you.
For you are the most important.
For all the World to see,
That only you alone, can change,
The way the World, is meant to be.

I don't like where we are going,
Nor the way discrimination, is now showing.
Equality of man, of all the races,
Is important, in this lands, many faces.
So, please be reminded, everyone out there,
This country is ours. Ours to share.

I never thought, I would ever see
Or be this close to finality
Of life, that was young with vigor,
Has moved to one of fear,
Of a good minds decline,
Into a state of what could be.

I am blessed to be around
Your quick wit and lovely charm
And while my mind may be unsound,
It does me no discernable harm,
Except, of course, if you aren't found,
And have escaped from an alarm
Of noise and piercing sound,
You succumb to the Siren's charm,
No longer to remain all bound.

Beneath, the bluest of skies,
I pause to listen
And wonder why,
The World, was made to be,
Only as reflective,
As I might be.
In these days of
Passing time,
I would be inclined,
To drink from cups,
In slurping gulps,
A lot of wine.
I ask the question
Or may imply,
That life goes on,
Though you may die
And no one will wonder,
When time does pass,
That you end up flat,
Behind that, which must be,
From here until senility.

Thoughts, turn and twist, within my mind,
Thrashing about. Thoughts, without reason
Or rhyme.
Empty, hollow thinking,
Of the nothingness,
That lies, within.