He met a girl
and was smitten.
Who would have thought,
it was a new kitten.

A World of uncertainty,
a sign of our times,
where other comments,
are manufactured by design.

Lies which are written,
though the truth was known,
only to be spread for gain,
by others who are home grown.

What has happened,
in a life we reject,
with indifference to others,
lacking common respect?

You called my name,
I turned to stare,
looking all over,
You were not there.

The echos in my mind,
were missing, no sound.
Have you found a new life,
has it been found?

I would read novels,
tales of western yore,
about Billy the Kid,
the Dalton Gang, and more.

The early days, in the West,
travelling before rail,
when covered wagons,
used the Oregon Trail.

Imagine the adventure,
as you travelled along,
miles after miles,
toward your new home.

I remember some stories,
told when on their way.
He wrote many novels,
about the West, Zane Grey

There was a time,
remembering it well.
You told me then,
"Go to Hell."

I believe, I've found it,
a place I know well.
It's where you're living,
next to where I dwell.

Yesterday, the first day,
was where it began
beginning the path,
of where it will end.

When words are too harsh,
and their usage, too mean,
one should apologize, quickly,
before mean, becomes obscene.

I seek not,
was said to me.
Why are you here,
knowing you cannot see?

Do you understand?
I'd like to know,
what you are seeing,
isn't a travelling show.

You're seeing life,
in reality time,
no rose covered glasses,
just life, so sublime.

Was it hard for you,
to even understand,
your journey through life,
as a lonely, old, man?

Westward, he rode,
over mountain and plain,
crossing many valleys,
of the lands domain.

Travelling on horseback,
he was doing his best,
pursuing the journey
of the first Pony Express.

Through the eyes
of the beholder,
her beauty came through.
She has skin like satin,
to name just a few.

Her lips the color of
the reddest rose,
the eyes were, as if,
made of coal.

When she smiled, her teeth,
white as new snow.
She was short, but was
proportioned, just so.

You would never leave her,
for there's no place to go.

When a brain cell
dies,
Must we then
surmise,
there are no chances just,
tries.
To health, they say no
lies.
The Worlds has too many
whys.

How can you be brave,
hour after hour,
when love is now gone
and you no longer have power.

The worst thing that happens,
when you do this today,
is giving up, leaving,
as you run away.

A new day,
actively being aware,
working hard to survive,
no time to spare.

Hit the "bricks running",
don't mind the stair,
many tasks lie ahead,
no time to spare.