I hate the life
God has given to you,
For you deserve better;
My point of view.
You've worked hard,
All of your life
And worked even harder
When you were my wife.
Your rewards, for what you do
I want to love more of you.

Sometimes, when trying to write down a word,
my mind becomes clogged. It is absurd,
when my thought wants to come through,
so I can write more words about you.

Now we argue about the news of
Corona deaths are now confused
and the number of deaths due to
the virus are lower than being stated.
A play on words? Of course it is.
We've been told, those citizens with
underlying health issues are at
greater risk than a healthy person.
So it is safe to say, the Corona
Virus is a contributor to the death
of so many. To argue differently
is moot and misses the point.
Spinning the data to improve the
perception of you, as a leader, is
typical for a Draft dodging person,
like you. I believe you have a "Cult"
as I observe.
Four more years of this style of
Control is absurd, as you trample
on the Constitution and the rights
of others who are of another race
or a different color. You are not a
leader. You are a failed businessman
who does not know how to manage.
That is my view of this terrible
individual.

"Vote twice", you said on TV.
What in the World is the matter with thee?
The evil within you is starting to show,
as you speak more words, then the wind can blow.
Here is a suggestion you can do.
Put tape over your mouth
to limit the words you say and to who.

I am finding it hard to relate
and it's becoming difficult to participate,
in an election routine, I do hate.
I don't like the lies and innuendos
coming from Trumps mouth and I pray,
he loses soon and will go away.
The only thing left for me to do,
is donate to Biden and vote Blue.

I'll write of love,
an emotion so dear.
If it wasn't for love,
I wouldn't be here.
I have been lucky in life,
but not so my dear wife,
for this hideous disease,
raised it's head, to appear.
Dementia is not what you see,
in a person you have loved
for what seems like an eternity.
The slow decline; a memory loss,
no matter how hard you try,
the disease keeps progressing
through the sad, long goodbye.

I tire of writing, I really do,
except I remember, I'm writing for me,
sharing the writing with all of you.

The thoughts, coming from my Soul,
are thought of truth, not hyperbole,
for I love all my friends
and the readers who view.
I pray you will like the word
as much as I mostly do.

Is there a meaning,
in the length of a sigh?
Does it vary
as evening draws nigh?
Foolish questions,
a half hearted try,
to explain the reason
for a long drawn out why.

Sitting amongst the grape vine,
sharing a fine glass of wine.
Hers is white, mine is red,
sipping slowly, as I said,
"A peaceful ritual,
when your inclined
sipping the nectar,
of something so fine."

I said OK to her.
She said, "It's not OK,
for I'm running behind
and I need to finish my work."
A vision of loveliness,
from history past,
with a love to offer,
but it would never last.

"I look around
and the objects I see,
no longer look
familiar to me."

There is no mercy,
with this terrible disease.
It can not be,
for if there were justice,
the diseased would be me.