shadows riddled with creepiness
the eerie flapping of bat wings
not one single star that glow above
nights skies of hovering darkness
in whistling wind brittle trees crackle
nothing but puffs of stale air sings
eyes guarded seeing supersizing fright
in every corner are passing silhouettes
across faces painted mask hang to scare
howling, moans and screams running feet
fooling pranks and gags galore of fun
smiles and laughter from trick or treat
children hunting candy in the night

my soul is alone
and wants to be held
my heart's dispirit moan
beats one ray of hope
for true love is unknown

depression is such a pain
throwing curve ***** of
downfalls in the membrane
my written words has pulled me
from the pits  of the brains pollution
and this I know to be a true fact indeed
"Writing" is the best cleaning  solution

like an old used
dish towel tossed aside
like nothing at all
just hanging there
waiting to fall
stripped from love
rinsed with pain
absorbing the hurt
out comes the rain
what happened to just
leave me behind
there is no answer
to comprehend this
residue I find

many days spent waiting
behind my quiet yet
bitten lips are words
hidden deep entwining
in a special language
the dialect of love
so sweet like wine
capturing my soul
with one sip
just one kiss
from your lips
I'm drunk

been there done that
sitting under a desk
closed in with no leg space
rusted chair wheels
that won't even roll
one wrong push I'll flip out
phone ringing call after call
I'm answering question
so simple to answer
almost time to punch out
clock it ticks yet haven't
moved an inch
intense waiting
thinking positive
I know it must be done
the daily results that's
what pays my bills

a golden mare
strength and power
inspiration and imagination
flowing in rhythm or rhyme
thoughts in words I share
passion moving forward in time
roads of emotions; feelings I stride
paths of decisions; thoughts I ride
experiencing; distance and abilities
within my mind galloping the margins
of my quenching desire written
running wild and free
a golden horse
the perfect palomino of poetry