Trees shed,

Leaves fall,

World hears,

Nature's call.

Every night I make a promise

That tomorrow things will change,

My life it will be better,

The troubles not so strange,

Each promise is of hollow words,

Like Easter Eggs, just shells,

For though I promise better,

Each tomorrow is just Hell.

I promised myself I wouldn't worry

but I did,

And still do,

That I wouldn't quit

right before giving up

putting down

siting still,

To try harder

not cheat

or lie,



My promises are just words

empty gestures to self improvement,

I promise to do better

I promise to be on time

next time

honestly.

Do we dread death

fear dying,

Or is it something more,

Could it be life

actual living,

That scares us, I'm unsure

How can me not knowing,

Be worse than being told,

Fearing the worse, it is a curse,

That'll plague me 'til I'm old.

Closed at 10am,

With customers outside,

Opening at 12pm,

By then the interest's died.




*Sometimes I feel as a blogger, like a shopkeeper with no customers. It isn't that I want people to buy anything, but it would be nice to have a few folk wander in and browse for a while. We may not have free WiFi, but we could always just talk to each other.......

Strange how good news sometimes

can still cut you at the knee,

When even things you want to hear

cause some difficulty