I Worry
• 04/30/21 at 10:12PM •I worry now, most every day
you aren't with me.
Your mind has gone away.
What to do when this occurs?
Write another line of verse.
Retired for many years and now re-discovering some writings, from long ago, along with new endeavor to help save my soul.
I worry now, most every day
you aren't with me.
Your mind has gone away.
What to do when this occurs?
Write another line of verse.
I have grown accustomed to your face.
I need to know if you feel the same.
There is no time to dream about,
when Life is short and uncertain.
Should I tell you how I feel?
Is this the time to swallow hard,
keeping emotions within your shell,
by staying resolved and alone?
Never to share, my own delight
or talk with you, until the Dawn.
We will never, until time is gone
and memories have faded; gone away.
I hope
I do
not linger
when life
gives me
the finger.
Doing this
I've said,
it's time
to go.
My bed
awaits me,
over there,
so now
I must
surely be
gone from
here and
must flee,
this life
without thee.
No more to write,
The words of Love,
No more to do,
For sit I here,
At the desk alone,
Looking for inspiration.
A sad situation, it is said
As I sit, virtually brain dead.
The stench of Death,
fills the room.
A smell which overrides
the gloom,
much like a Rose which
will no longer bloom.
Petals gone, on the ground,
too early and too soon.
How many more days will there be,
until an Acorn becomes an Oak tree?
I can no longer walk
as I did as a child,
for my gait will wobble,
stumbling down an uneven path.
I better change my point of view
before I faceplant
into the morning dew.
I gave a dollar.
I gave a dime,
and once again,
a request for more.
If I respond to
every request,
for money from those.
I'll soon be homeless
and have no clothes.
The night was short,
but lest I forget,
as I awake and
the sheets are wet.
Incontinence, is not the thing,
who anyone would want,
but changing sheets at 4:30 Am,
is not what I sought.
She cannot help it, this I know
it's why I still love her so.
I see the look in your eyes.
Crazed.
I hear the sound of your voice.
Amazed.
I see your reaction to pressure.
Dazed.
I see how you handle adversity.
Praised.
The red of a Rose.
The green of a grape vine,
are my favorite colors,
for I love this time of year,
when the colors of a rainbow
become so very dear,
yet the dark of charcoal,
muted with whites and grey
are in my mind, at this time of
unrest, as another life has gone away
If you must hate me
because of my color of skin,
why can't you love me
for my heart within?