Why?
• 04/20/24 at 03:12AM •An aged, old story,
We hear over again.
Why can life become cruel
And bitter when?
An aged, old story,
We hear over again.
Why can life become cruel
And bitter when?
Why must we choose
between two friends,
we both love and trust?
The hurt that is seen,
the pain, that is not,
is hard to understand.
Why those whose love
had been, for years,
now has turned into sand
and dried up tears.
Memories of friendships
are stuck in his head.
A need to write them down now,
or I will forget them instead.
He was a man remembering,
so many others,
be they Mothers or Fathers,
Sisters or brothers.
He was quite fickle,
in many ways,
for he loved most people,
until the end of his days.
He was lonely,
but had many friends.
When asked a question,
he'd say simply, It all depends.
An old writing from January 19, 2018,
in a different style but stirll true today.
My mind is filled with clutter
like the top of someone's desk.
Do you suppose or I propose,
please don't call me today.
It's meeting time,
go stand in line
and hurry up!
But wait!
Go get in line
one more time,
as if we're all darn sheep.
Pollution is in everything,
we eat, breathe, drink,
hear and see.
Keep in mind the
things we do,
on every working day,
like filing words on paper
with thoughts that are past.
It would be nice to
be with you
or even run away,
to some forgotten,
Native place
where all adults
can play
while children work
to support the rich
and you and I
can stay
and spend a happy
hour or two
and never go away
from each other.
For friends are welcome
all the time.
I told you my mind was
a clutter,
I just didn't say,
I would utter,
all these thoughts
to thee.
Written prior to my wife being
admitted to a Memory Care facility,
approximately a year after she was
diagnosed with Early Onset Dementia.
Touch me softly,
with the flowers,
grown from within
a gardens love.
Feel new grass,
wet with dew,
sparkling from,
the rising sun.
Love me sweetly
with the passion
of stolen moments,
taken from yesterdays,
unfilled dreams.
When you are alone, many thoughts
of loneliness will enter your mind.
Talk about it with your friends and family.
It's not easy, being lonely,
especially, when surrounded
by friends.
But when your good,
nothing is difficult.
I can find myself in
pits of sorrow,
covered with my own
self pity,
feeling sad,
for no reason.
The mind wanders.
It matters not, what you think I am,
It matters only, that I'm a man,
Who cares about, his family and friends
And need not try to make amends.
Moderation
is the answer,
to the results of
the excesses in
our short life.
Dinking wine from bottles
or with glass in hand
makes me feel ecstatic,
makes me feel so grand,
until morning.
Be good to others,
"The good book reads."
yet here we are, engaged in war.
Creatures short,
Creatures tall.
When I was young,
I knew them all.
Round ones,
Square ones, all,
Were the same height,
large or small.
"Makes no sense,"
you said to me.
"To be the same height,
simply can't be."
I said, "You're right,
for the size you see,
looks exactly,
the same to me."
What day
will it end.
When you go
from Love,
to just being,
a friend?
How will I know?
One more moment,
is all I ask,
to be with you again.
One moment is the past.
Memories are pushing out,
from my brain.
Memories of love
and an occasional disdain.
No one prepares you
of the loss of a life.
In my case, it was,
the loss of my wife.
Ive been told to feel lucky,
in this play, life,
for all of the time,
I spent with my wife.
While the information is true,
except for the rest of your life,
please understand, your loss,
cuts like a sharp knife.
Please spare me the platitudes,
they don't help my wife,
and certainly do nothing,
reduce my sadness and strife.
When this life is over,
it will never be,
for I've lost her,
for an eternity.
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