He Was Working
• 05/30/23 at 07:27PM •He was working.
A good thing,
having a job,
to save money
towards a better
future, in life.
He was working.
A good thing,
having a job,
to save money
towards a better
future, in life.
Have you ever lost your temper?
Do you even know how,
to lose your cool,
when someone breaks a vow?
Before daybreak,
at the onset of dawn,
I arise with sleepy eyes,
accompanied by a yawn.
Days speed by,
so readily,
my life is,
mostly adversity.
John Archibald Wheeler (1911 – 2008) was an American theoretical physicist. He earned his doctorate at Johns Hopkins University and is best known for popularizing the term "black hole, as to objects with gravitational collapse already predicted during the early 20th century, for inventing the terms "quantum foam", "neutron moderator", "wormhole" and for hypothesizing the "one-electron universe". Stephen Hawking referred to him as the "hero of the black hole story".
When I write for you,
I'll write in pen,
as pencil will fade away,
never knowing when.
What day, hath thy free?
A glorious, sunny day
exists for special people,
like you. Hoping you
have the chance to enjoy.
My mind has gone,
short to ground,
as brain cells fry,
there is no sound.
No more memories,
they've gone away,
to never return,
even if we pray.
Yet here I am
in fallen glory,
filled with grief,
another story.
I like music,
a melodic song,
stoking the flame,
of where I belong.
If I could
see you once more,
and tell you,
of my love, or
Is it just
a silly run,
when I know
love is done.
Is it time?
Did it sell?
Did all things,
not go well.
These questions,
are those I ask,
about the work
on a simple task.
Through a window, darkened,
a scratching sound was heard.
Could it be coming from,
a large, aggressive bird?
Or was it from the branches,
of a weeping willow tree.
Our imagination, in effect,
when it's dark and we can't see.
Looking in the darkest night,
was our task to do.
We worked extra hard,
finding the noise, came to,
through a darkened window,
the scratching sound we heard,
was from willow tree branches,
It was not from a bird.
Water coursing.
hill and glen,
eroding soil,
then on
to rivers
and the Sea.
Life goes on,
without the
incessant tug
of politicians.