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Dec 2019 · 295
The Colour of Blue
Michael Adams Dec 2019
I left behind a life I knew,
With hopes to see a lighter hue,
I found instead I was askew,
With visions I could not subdue.

And now to see the story through,
With illustrations not all blue,
Impossible, since you withdrew,
And took with you my colour too.
Dec 2019 · 549
Where the Broken hearted go
Michael Adams Dec 2019
I climbed a mountain, I hoped to know,
Over rocks and ice and snow,
I asked the sun in morning glow,
Where do the broken hearted go?

The Sun just laughed and moved away,
To brighten up another day.
So I took the fast way down below,
To where the broken hearted go.
Oct 2019 · 321
Bye the numbers
Michael Adams Oct 2019
Were you the one or one in five?
Is it dead or still alive?
Could I be six or even more?
Could I be ten and you be four?
Did I forget to carry one?
Did I add numbers just for fun?
Or multiply my feelings out?
Or round down when you’d yell and shout?
For I was never good at this.
And all the signs they went amiss.
For every answer every sum,
I can’t erase my only one.
Oct 2019 · 278
East and West
Michael Adams Oct 2019
We met once.
It was on a Bridge.
Do you remember?
You were on the Eastern side and I was on the West.
I thought you’d smiled at me.
You thought I’d play exactly like the rest.

I stepped out.
It was Sunny.
Do you remember?
As I left the West.
I thought you’d laughed at me.
You thought that keeping distance would be best.

I stopped.
It was Cloudy.
Do you remember?
As I looked back at the West.
I thought you’d yelled at me.
You thought my climbing on the rail was in jest.

I jumped.
It was raining.
Do you remember?
I took one last look toward the West.
I thought I saw you there.
You thought you’d just continue on your quest.
Sep 2019 · 431
A Fork in the Road
Michael Adams Sep 2019
Our hearts will not allow us to complete the Journey without
living &
loving
honestly and openly and truthfully.

Our heads will tell us to keep trying to anyway.

Don’t listen.

The Journey is long enough as it is.
Guilt &
Regret
Are heavy burdens to carry.
Sep 2019 · 272
To my younger self
Michael Adams Sep 2019
Life is a Disco. Don’t sit in the corner. Put yourself in the middle and dance like crazy.

Love is a gamble. Never fold. If your choices are rational and your mind is clear, You aren’t playing.

Loss is a sledgehammer. Never swing it. It will only break more than it already has.
Sep 2019 · 223
Advice
Michael Adams Sep 2019
Advice is just an opinion with an agenda.

Take a chance on me.

This is my advice to you.
Sep 2019 · 294
Riptide
Michael Adams Sep 2019
He thought he had a grip on life,
He thought he knew his place his Wife.
He thought he knew himself as well,
But when he met her all thoughts fell.

No longer did he know his Wife,
Too loose he’d held a grip on life.
And swept up by a younger spell,
That grip was broken by the swell.

Now swept away he looked around,
The younger spell could not be found.
He called he searched he tried in vain,
But hope and heart began to wane.

For she had gone this much he knew,
His head was fog his heart was blue.
He knew for him it wouldn’t be,
So he surrendered to the sea.
Sep 2019 · 840
Why?
Michael Adams Sep 2019
My tears are falling,
Why so Sad?
My fear is calling,
Why so mad?
My life collapsing,
Why so bad?
I lost a love,
I never had.
Sep 2019 · 310
The shattered self
Michael Adams Sep 2019
Darkness and light have become entangled in my mind.

Moments captured are quietly lost, nothing more than shadows that flirted with existence.
They were hope, then became a memory.....soon they will be gone.

My heart is to blame.

Under your brightness, it could not see that the shadows were being cast from one side.

It spoke out of turn.
Sep 2019 · 307
A life less lived
Michael Adams Sep 2019
A leaf it wanders slowly down,
A creek while turning red to brown.
Forgetting all that came before,
Decaying more and more and more.

Once vibrant green and full of life,
This fragile leaf is now in strife.
For soon the creek it will become,
A faster flowing river run.

An older leaf it always knows,
How water in the river flows.
It’s fast and fierce and never kind,
It leaves the older leaves behind.

To watch the river flowing past,
To see it all go by so fast.
To sit and watch, and want but lack,
To slowly turn from brown to black.

— The End —