What in the World
• 12/08/23 at 08:58PM •What in the World,
I've often heard.
Been thinking now,
how the World is absurd.
Too many killings,
the taking of lives.
How do we cope?
Can we survive?
Retired for many years and now re-discovering some writings, from long ago, along with new endeavor to help save my soul.
What in the World,
I've often heard.
Been thinking now,
how the World is absurd.
Too many killings,
the taking of lives.
How do we cope?
Can we survive?
Twas a time,
long ago.
There was a boy,
oh, oh.
Came a girl,
oh no.
They met,
go, go.
Dating often,
so, so.
Arguing at times,
yoyo.
Fell in love,
do si do.
Married,
oh, I Do.
No matter how
hard you try,
fate steps in,
and you still die.
Once the Sun
sets on you,
your day is done,
and you're all through.
Anywhere,
coast to coast,
when life is over,
you're just toast.
Forever the ember,
do you recall,
the month of December,
when we had it all?
I don't know,
perhaps I never will,
when thoughts were
clear, until.
they weren't.
Why does a mind
look at options
from behind?
A fear at night,
when the day is gone,
memories arise. Words
from the oldest song,
will appear again
in this mind of ours,
as we search heaven
for all our lost stars.
Hour after hour,
day by day,
I hear the question,
"What did he say?"
These words are
muttered, again,
"Pardon me,
I don't understand."
A lack of hearing,
seems to be the cause.
Heavy words from
old Santa Claus.
Thrashing through this field of sin,
oh what a dilemma we are in.
Never again, will I refrain,
about the time, about the pain.
My heart is shattered, into bits
of broken , emotional nits,
from a love lost long ago.
My heart, broken, I'll go slow.
White was the color,
reflecting in her eyes.
Perfume, the scent,
caused me to realize,
here was a passion,
a beauty to see,
whose joyful manner,
became her personality.
The spirts fly,
high at night.
Some tequila,
will make it right.
Oh joy! At last a vision of loveliness,
You have that smile,
and the blue eyes,
which will beguile.
Your voice as sweet
as honey to the bee.
Your speech, soft it tis,
I enjoy seeing thee.
I sit,
I stare,
at your face,
you're not aware.
You're dressed,
in a Holiday style,
but you are asleep.
I await your smile.
What once was,
is no longer here.
They're just memories,
in a rear-view mirror.
The fleeting images,
of days gone by,
are fading away.
My question. Why?