My thoughts float.
Like a stray balloon
wind swept from a child’s hand.

Once tied to my
rope burned wrist.
But removed by life
ever so swift.

I hope for just
a bit more time.
That thought I had
now gone from my mind.

My thoughts float.
Like a stray balloon
wind swept from a child’s hand.

Yes,
This is real
Right now,
Or is it?
Still
Don't know,
No?
Is it all
Really "Relative?"

Is what
We see,
Merely small pieces
Of waves, Of frequencies...
Chosen by
The system...

To trust it,
Doubt it;
Or, none
Of the above.

It's my radio,
It's yours too...
It belongs to everyone?

We all see
Through
A different lens.

His is winter
As he paints snow-
Theirs is different
Since surviving
The war; Different
Each day.
Hers right now,
Is magical
As the wind blows
And colors
Impose
On her fate
Unknown.

Stations
Changing
Constantly,
In these
Realities.

In my head,
Yours,
It is all in
Our heads.

Destruction
Kept me alive
In Jesus' resurrection
After Friday

YOU LIKE MY POEMS, SO, I FEEL BETTER,
HEARTY THANKS,YOUR SUPPORT MATTER !

Impersonator
Melted into the dark
My ghostly shadow

Appear out of the blue
Fade into oblivion
Meandering thoughts

Deafening silence enveloped pitch-dark night
Perfect setting
For burglary

Wiped the snow-dusted grave
The epitaph read, "Everlasting flower!"
I wept