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.
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.
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.
Love knows no limit,
Love knows no bound.
Love is now missing.
Love cannot be found.
Here I am,
yearning for love.
A friendship to secure,
forever my trove.
Words become a topic,
when used to describe,
a collection of words,
into a finished document.
This was what I was trying to
convey in this December 2020 writing,
Many of the words, unused before,
lay as castoffs on my writing room floor.
Wrinkled, dried as leaves from a tree,
waiting, still waiting to be used by me.
Words forgotten, well past their age,
can be returned to life; to a page
in a notebook, a paper, using a pen,
to be written for the reader again.
Many, many years ago,
Twas when I went to sea,
when I enlisted in the
United States Navy.
Nineteen years of age,
still wet behind the ears.
Away from home, first time,
battling youthful fears.
Stationed in San Diego,
aboard a Destroyer Escort, DE.
Chipping paint and repainting,
then I went to sea.
Many years have gone by
and if the need was as then,
I would re-enlist,
once more, once again.
Why has life become,
not fun anymore?
It's the same game,
when we don't keep score.
My life has more sadness,
with an aching desire,
for my emotions,
are now on fire.
Will you remember,
the vows we made,
when with another?
Someone said.
I have found, living together
and now apart,
has become a sad place,
full of sorrow and a broken heart.
It encompasses most of the residents.
The sense of sadness, now,
of life's losses and
more broken hearts, lost vow.
So many stories exist,
in this aging residence,
of illness and lost life,
a memory, a remembrance.
Often times, when reflecting on
the past, I will wonder, what was,
I thinking about when I wrote this.
I don't know, is my answer.
You be the judge.
Someday, soon, when youthful follies
have grown stale and passed.
You will find that, guidance given
was acquired and amassed,
by someone who had gained, by living
a great experience.
This experience of living was learned
through much grief and strife
and in no way, was it intended to
make you change your life.
The intent is to make it easier
for you to find your place
and let you, run with others
while keeping up the pace.