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To hear the sound of your voice,
brings pleasure to me.
It always has, when I hear thee.
The lilt of your laughter
when we talk and I see,
your eyes are aglow,
with love's own humility.
Unlike before, you aren't near
and I haven't had a hug
for now; a half of a year.
Keeping a Social distance,
is so hard to do,
when your remaining years
are down to a few.

At times I am lame.
No; not in that way.
Just a naive person
as I was, one lonely day.
She called to me
from a table, quite near,
wanting to know
if I'd like a beer.
She said, "Call me Ann,
I am your server today."
I nodded my head,
she left, walking away
and brought me a beer
in a long Pilsner glass.
It was then I knew
I now must confess,
I had been here before,
for they all knew my name
as I came through the door.
Why can't I remember?
Or not know at all,
when I entered the chamber
just off the hall.

It began in early Winter
or the late part of Fall.
A virus so contagious
it could kill us all.
A Democratic hoax
is what was said
and now there are over
one hundred fifty-six thousand dead.
What kind of man?
What kind of fool,
has now just become
the Devil's own tool.
Make America great again
were the words said.
Not so great now
for those who are dead.

Ugly your thoughts.
Ugly your words,
When you tweet,
It's so absurd.
You know not of love.
You only know hate,
For you chastise others,
When you lie and berate,
The goodness of those
Who wear simpler clothes.
Perhaps it's the truth,
Which will soon depose
Of your hateful rhetoric,
Only the Voter knows.

You said you would drain the
swamps, in the D. C. towns,
but all you have done
is released all your clowns.
You will say one thing and
then you take it back.
I swear you behave now
like Frick and Frack.

A bag, a box, a cloth sack,
you have many excuses
now you want them all back.
Did Mexico pay for your wall?
Or is it your imagination,
which you have? All
the lies you continue to say
and the acts that you do;
Enemy Number One
that now describes you.

I am writing these words
without rhyme or reason,
for I am a frustrated artist,
as some people might say
but that is not as simple
or difficult to be.
Have I a skill?
Only you can judge,
for I write out these words,
with nothing in mind and
my thought are a flow,
like many times before.
Why is it something I do?
Just to skip a bit as I must;
There is no free lunch and
there never will be. Stay
safe, is what I say now.
Be good to each other
during this short short life.

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