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I’ll be there when you call
I’ll be there if you fall
In you I’ve found my future
I’ll be there
I’ll be there

I will watch while you sleep
I will hold you when you weep
My eternal love won't fail you
I'll be there
I'll be there
                      ljm
A while back I put up the first verse and asked for help with a second.  I got a lot of suggestions but could't make them work.  After some time a comment by a fellow poet gave me the inspiration for a second verse, which is above. I thanked her and then promptly lost her name in  my damaged brain. Now all I need is a bridge.
Why is it that I post two writes - my common practice - and don't begin to see any likes for up to 2 weeks.  Do writes stay in Limbo?
Yesterday and today I see comments on "Purpose" which I posted 2 weeks ago. What's going on? I have 2 more in the pipeline - where are they? When will anyone see them?
Is this just my writes, or does everyone encounter the same delay?
And how soon will you see THIS one?  Posted 5/21.
Frustration is a never ending song.
With their store-bought *****
And Botoxed faces
With Gucci bags and corset laces
They smiled on us like we were Rubes

Who didn’t know the stuff they learned
From whispers at the Polo Bar,
And how some gal became a star
Rewarded for the tricks she turned.

To them class is designer’s names
On things worth less than half their price
They always seek the biggest slice
Of that big pizza known as fame.

They’re always at the big events
When there are cameras around.
If there are headlines to be found.
Their statements seldom make much sense.

I wouldn’t want to be like them
Living such a plastic life
Longing for the surgeons knife
To give them beauty on a whim

I’ll go on my Rube-like way
Without the glitter and the glam
I’ll just stay the way I am
And live a happy, useful day.
ljm
KISS is a good rule to live by.
You disappointed me
Your charger was a hobby horse
And you were white with fear.
ljm
All promise and no delivery.
I have no purpose any more.
I’m a painter who’s gone blind
And a singer who’s gone deaf.
There is no call for what I sell.

I still daub colors on a board
To smell the Linseed Oil again
I hear the music in my head
And mouth the words in silence.

There is no surgery or cure,
What’s gone is lost forever.
And I must find a way to live
In silent darkness, if I can.
              ljm
Another of those dreary tomes I wrote when I was depressed. I'm better now.
Camilla owes her crown to Diana.
If Diana had been a traditional royal Spouse
She’d have turned a blind eye to Charles’s betrayal
And just enjoyed the perks of Queenhood.
But - alas - she loved that perfidious son-of-a-monarch
And couldn’t abide being only his *******.
Had not she stormed away from that Sovereign Throne
Madam Parker Bowles would have had to remain
The grasping and greedy, outstandingly common
***** that she was and will ever remain.
And Charles could have then joined in the very long line
Filled with unfaithful Kings and their cheated-on queens.
                 LJM
I call 'em like I see 'em.
I am someone you can count on.
If I say I will, I do.
If I say I can, it’s true.
I labor on when the rest are gone.

You can trust me with your secrets.
I’ve no need to tell the world.
My gossip flag is always furled.
So you will never have regrets.

I’m the one who’ll stand beside you
As you wade through thick and thin.
I’ll be like your next of kin
And I will always see you through.
ljm
My first attempt at an Enclosed Rhyme poem. (ABBA)
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