To feel is a curse
To feel is a blight
To know how you feel yet lack the might, the prowess
To convey thoughts to words, to harness
The abundance of feelings welling up
Leaving you reeling, sickened and wondering
Who, what, when, where, why, and how
Do I love, do I hate, will it stop, will it go, and
Should I even let my feelings flow?

Shakespeare's rhymes sing of a beautiful time
Talk of beauty forever enlosed in his lines
How I wish I had the skill
To immortalize your elegance through my electronic quill
To be like the old masters of the art
To write everything on paper straight from their heart
But I fear I possess the level of skill for that kind of art
For I am a simple man and simple words are the weapons I wield

I love you
that in itself
is poetry

Detach yourself from the constructs of man
Things of non-permanence
Focus on the improvement of your soul
Learn to live with material absence

Be not blinded by grandeur
Of money and social stature
Do not envy your neighbor
They forget they are only man

Remember your mortality and relish in the reality
That everything that must begin will end eventually
But be not afraid of the inevitable
For those who fully lived life
Never truly die

Memento Mori

Beware It comes like a thief in the night
A blink of an eye, a flash of lightning
Beware for you know not when you might die
Or when you might have the thought of dying
But be not afraid of the thought of death
Be afraid of a life you have not lived
Embrace death as you breathe your final breath
It is not as evil as you’ve conceived
Life and death, and the sun and the moon
Contrasting elements, both beautiful
For how can you hate such a lovely boon
One which gives meaning to a life so cruel
So treat the end of life as a reward
To a life which many deem very hard