When it is Over
• 04/22/24 at 07:24AM •When it is over,
will you relent,
or have the damages,
left you with your nose bent?
Anger, should be,
to understand,
except when your feet,
are stuck in the sand.
When it is over,
will you relent,
or have the damages,
left you with your nose bent?
Anger, should be,
to understand,
except when your feet,
are stuck in the sand.
We are Actors,
in our own life's plays.
We play actors in life,
until the end of days.
Our roles, all different,
as they should be,
for we are all players,
in the scenes, we see.
I hope we are called lovers,
by all who we know
and the love is truthful,
once it's decided to go.
I'm happy to know you,
and for all which you do.
My heart, bursts with joy,
whenever I see you.
You are not my love,
to take.
I'm so sorry, if,
your heart, I break.
Naked branches,
across the sky,
a moonlit background.
Why, oh, why?
Do the simple,
things in life.
Create joy,
not causing strife.
Await a visit,
from afar,
while you observe,
a falling star.
Writing words, to paper,
will disappear with disdain,
as overtime,
memories, wane.
Nothing was special,
dreams were fast,
as disinterest prevailed
and didn't last.
You said you
loved me,
but we couldn't let
anyone see.
I understood the reason,
as old as I be.
You are younger,
do we have compatibility.
It doesn't matter, at all,
to me.
The age differential,
will be harder on thee.
Only a few days, remain,
you will be free,
to find someone who,
loves you more than me.
Life's sad tale supplemented,
with love,
Hopefully will be addressed,
by those up above.
He saw her again,
it was yesterday,
Was she a visitor,
or did she, here stay?
Unanswered questions,
not his to say.
When he saw her again,
his heart melted away.
Concentrate on the items in life
Long ago, in bye gone days,
when times were cold and hard,
there lived a man, a lonely man
who lived without regard,
for the thoughts of others.
Solitary, singular, lonely man,
please think of your amends,
for if you stay the way you are
you will soon have no friends.
So be you kind to those who are
the core that you surround
and you will find that those who care
will still want you around.
Memories of friendships
are stuck in his head.
A need to write them down now,
or I will forget them instead.
He was a man remembering,
so many others,
be they Mothers or Fathers,
Sisters or brothers.
He was quite fickle,
in many ways,
for he loved most people,
until the end of his days.
He was lonely,
but had many friends.
When asked a question,
he'd say simply, It all depends.
An old writing from January 19, 2018,
in a different style but stirll true today.
My mind is filled with clutter
like the top of someone's desk.
Do you suppose or I propose,
please don't call me today.
It's meeting time,
go stand in line
and hurry up!
But wait!
Go get in line
one more time,
as if we're all darn sheep.
Pollution is in everything,
we eat, breathe, drink,
hear and see.
Keep in mind the
things we do,
on every working day,
like filing words on paper
with thoughts that are past.
It would be nice to
be with you
or even run away,
to some forgotten,
Native place
where all adults
can play
while children work
to support the rich
and you and I
can stay
and spend a happy
hour or two
and never go away
from each other.
For friends are welcome
all the time.
I told you my mind was
a clutter,
I just didn't say,
I would utter,
all these thoughts
to thee.
Written prior to my wife being
admitted to a Memory Care facility,
approximately a year after she was
diagnosed with Early Onset Dementia.
Touch me softly,
with the flowers,
grown from within
a gardens love.
Feel new grass,
wet with dew,
sparkling from,
the rising sun.
Love me sweetly
with the passion
of stolen moments,
taken from yesterdays,
unfilled dreams.
Moderation
is the answer,
to the results of
the excesses in
our short life.
Dinking wine from bottles
or with glass in hand
makes me feel ecstatic,
makes me feel so grand,
until morning.