Would I be the man
I am, without my wife?
The answer, is to me,
Saying in this reality,
No.

A life well lived
is most certainly,
no better then
a life lived in humility.

I wish I still had today.
My first car, a Ford Model A

I am now lost
and won't be found
for my sanity is losing ground.
Discussions I have at night
are meaningless, yet in spite
of all the love there is to give
I feel lost and will not receive
the heart felt feelings, I see
from you to this tired me.

The well is empty like my head.
There are no words, but instead
Just a desire to go back to bed.
My sleep is long but I toss and turn
For trying to sleep I must earn.
I know if I do not get some rest
The sleep I'll get may be a test
Of my will, or well it will depend
Upon what you say, my old friend.

The carpet must be bumpy now,
when we count up all the dead.
As all the bad news of Co-vid19,
is being covered up and instead
of having a National Plan for this
decision, you keep the data in your head.
What kind of a man are you now?
Who is afraid to fight, the fight
of fairness and who uses
dirty deeds by lying about what is right.
You are evil, it's plain to see,
when you lied to all the Citizens
about what the Democrats mean to thee.
A spiteful man, is what you are,
but I don't want to write, you see,
for the lies you tell will live long
when you die in infamy.

I miss you, Miss Ellie.
I really do.
I'm happy now, for
I can still talk to you.
There are no words
For me to say,
As you don't understand,
much on this day.
Social discussion with you
I do love and not to discuss
current events to avoid
All the political lies.
Be well my darling
As well as you can be,
For my love is here with
You, for the World to see.

I'm having a difficult time
trying to write, as all
the words and music are
rattling in my head. " A little
more conversation.." in my brain.
It is something I can't explain.
A little more thought, a little
more work and the words
I write will pollute the air.
I am trying to breathe.
Sorry for the rant. I thought.
There I go again, thinking, if
I would write what is now
in my head, I could free up
some space and write my
words instead.

Tell me more about the
World you live in when
you are away from me.
I see you sitting in your
chair when you are about
to say, "I'm bored."
When you cannot grasp the
words I speak or
what that object is. I
see the surprise then
appears when you pick up
an object and say "this?"
There is no connection to
the objects you see and
the name it is called.
Forgive me sweet one
if I don't understand
when you ask me a question
of something, over and over again.
I'll try to reply with
my best guess.

I write the words with something more,
for the words I write, please explore.
Tell me if they strike a chord
or if they are too short, trite of word.