As I awake, this coming dawn,
I wonder what will lie, beyond,
These many hours of this life,
Filled with an increasing strife,
And memory loss, that is profound.

Every life, has a reason,
A reason not to die.
Every year has a season,
A season that you try
To honor all the missing,
The missing people who lie,
Somewhere in hiding.
Hiding for we know not why.

Fall not, on your sword, he said,
As he pushed me to the brink.
I shall not do so, I replied,
So I had another drink.

Flowers of pink, cut thru the haze,
Of these, faux, Summer days.

Secret thoughts, innermost in my mind,
Remain, caught up, inside of me,
Distraught and all entwined,
Among my inner feelings,
Of things not meant to be,
While bound by my commitments
And unable to be free.

Hold my hand. Listen to my words
of sorrow.
Touching you, makes waiting
For tomorrow,
Easier.

Softly, a whisper,
A good morning, hello,
The sparkle of your laughter,
That lets me know,
That you are happy.

Do you remember,
The way we were, when young?
Of all the worlds to conquer,
Or the songs to be sung?

Did you wear, cute little dresses,
That covered up your knees
Or hold on to your Father's finger
And learn of birds and bees?

Did you ever go to a drive-in,
To eat hamburger deluxe with fries,
Then flirt and tease your boy friend,
By batting your pretty eyes?

Do you recall, first dances,
Proms, and other types of dates,
Or things that really bugged you
And other unlikeable traits?

Do you remember cruising
Up and down, First Avenue?
I remember those things.
Do you remember too?

Did you ever wonder,
Did you ever care,
What would happen to others,
If others weren't aware,
Of all the sad beginnings
And of the worldly pain,
That lives among us
And we see over, again?
There must be a better way,
For all of us to be.

I have wondered, many times,
If our life was meant to be,
Of growing older by the hour,
Until we are eighty-three,
I don't know,
Could be.