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I don’t know if it’s just the bitter cold
or the failure of the liquor to warm my soul,
but there’s frostbite on my lungs and an emptiness deep inside me.
“The future is bright” oh what a lie,
spending every night with my only company; the sky,
the stars lose the fight and even fade when the sun rises high,
and it does so spitefully.

I’ve got unlimited time,
claiming invincibility as a crime.
I’ve got an endless list in rhyme,
but I have no conclusion.

Tell me Scout, is this a joke you were planning?
Boo Radley’s tree is not for hanging.
Gritted teeth and fists are banging.

I’ve got unlimited time,
but no energy left for the climb.
I’ve got never ending points to chime,
but it’s all an illusion.

Tell me Scout, is this a joke I’m not understanding?
Boo Radley’s tree is not for hanging.
Dodging punches and slurs they’ve all been slanging.

I evaluated the situation up and down, left and right,
and I still don’t think it’s accurate of that night,
‘cause the level was too hard when I meant to choose beginner.
I tried to hold your interest with all my might,
but I noticed your eyes drastically dim in light,
the screen flashed “game over” before we were even done dinner.
The colours to illustrate you don’t exist,
and even if they did I still would miss,
a single shade or hue
that fully captures you.
Better than a Mona Lisa smile,
and Starry Starry Night eyes,
I tried for a mosaic but there was no perfect tile,
nothing could do justice, blasphemy to anyone that tries.

You’re a living, breathing masterpiece;
every gallery should be honoured to have you on their walls.
Too complex for graffiti on the streets,
too heavenly for concert halls.
I can write you; rainbow and tornado,
orbs of faint blue, and a grin of sweet day glow.
Oceanic waves and erupting volcano,
the sun’s ray that came on through,
and the embrace within the wind’s blow.

There isn’t a single brush head I could find,
that could stroke each corner of your mind,
it’s too complex and deep,
it’d be so stunning, it would make all weep.
Putting shame to an Impression, Sunrise
and casting shadows on Lady with an Ermine,
as just a simple picture of your eyes
would last eternally through time.

You’re a living, breathing masterpiece;
not meant for a mere mortal to possess.
Completely perfect personality, traits and feats,
every other human design was just a test.
I can write you, style and rhyme,
blindly bright, natural sunshine.
Digging only at surface to fit into each line,
but there’s no describing what connects it all or the bind.

I know the answer but if you said,
that your favourite colour was red,
I’d let myself bleed out to provide you some paint.
Non acrylic and totally free of lead,
I’d wish for you to illustrate the picture  within my head,
even if the proportions are wrong,
and the lines are blurred and faint.

You’re a living, breathing masterpiece;
completely impossible to duplicate.
Though unfinished you’re still complete,
amazingly flawless in this state.
I can write you; every day till I die,
until the pages and filled and my pens run dry.
Deep like the ocean, but bright like the sky,
and you’ll steal the hearts and breath of all passing by.
 Oct 8 Äŧül
Alber
A practicing and devout Catholic
Married a talented and charming wife
However but not of his faith

Surely it could be said
With very little sadness
That there was a Methodist
To his madness.
 Oct 8 Äŧül
Alber
There're was a young man named Book
Who passed every exam that he took
So he went to Notre Dame
And achieved Lasting Fame
By winning,
Game,
After Game,
After Game.
 Oct 8 Äŧül
Alber
Mitch
 Oct 8 Äŧül
Alber
There was a coach named Naggy
Who wore a beard quite shagy
He had a quarterback called Trubisky
Who started each game with some whiskey.

When asked why
His answer was sly
I can't take this game seriously
Much as I try.
 Oct 8 Äŧül
Alber
We will not stand here
And allow an angel
Who became a devil
To enter this sacred gate.

With a trembling  voice
I did inquire
Of what am I accused
Of being human, of being human
Came back the reply.
 Oct 8 Äŧül
Alber
Mayor Pete Buttigieg
was nobodies fool.
He chose Harvard
for a school.

Went to England
as an Oxford scholar.
Got a Rhodes award
and saved US dollar.

Took a freighter to study
for his final exam.
( This is true, I do nor jest}
of his class, he scored the best.

Came home and served as Mayor
and won a second term
in football city, Notre Dame.
earning him a taste of fame.

To round out his life
he went on line
and found a male partner.
It worked out fine.

He ran for President
as a South Bend resident.
Both friend and foe
rated his chances low.
I will give it, said he, a go.
 Sep 27 Äŧül
Chelsea Rae
Approaching the stand,
She shook with ultimate fear but
Also, excitement.

"There's not much time."
She heard them whisper urgently in the background.

Quickly she stepped forward
And glided her palm along the old leather cover with a gasp of awe and fear.

She tucked her fingertips
Between the gold lined pages and
Pulled it open.

Scanning and flipping through pages
She found her name but stops abruptly.
Closing her eyes and holding her breath, she slowly peaks open one eye.
Was she ready to know her heart's question?
She looked and tears dived over cheeks.

In cursive
There it was written next to hers.
"Hurry." They whispered again, snapping her out of the daze.
She quickly gathered herself and shut the book of fate.

Quickly escaping without all her answers, but at least she had the most important one.
 Sep 24 Äŧül
Fearless
I hate to have to say these words
they really are absurd
but when you're right you like to gloat
you're such a little ****

A smile spreads across your face
it lights you like the sun
all you want to hear me say
is, fine, you're right, you won

You giggle like a little girl
and I just roll my eyes
it's not a very manly sound
but this might be a surprise

I like to tell you that you're right
because it makes you happy
and I love you oh so much
that it makes me kinda sappy
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