My friends been depressed,
there a wreck,
and they go through all sorts of tests
what a mess,
because the only outcome is things they suggest,
giving prescriptions to digest,
like you say it's genetic as you pull out cuffs to arrest
you say they can't help it as you ******* their vest,

now claiming,
sometimes you're born with it!

My friend has frights,
and they shake in the night,
as time goes on he gets closer and closer to touching the white lights,

left alone all day wonder
what is so wrong with me? who can I blame for this!

My friend, me well I'm well,
but I mean to say were in an actual hell,
but thats in the past because at least I've got my health and no one to hear me yell,
were if wellness is this, I can't picture the sickness,

my friend we must manage our misery,
or mange in the misery,
Don't run from the misery,
you can't run.

Emerging from a distant dust-up,
A lone rider approaches on horse.
The clip-clop gallop grows,
The panting animal is alarming,
Sweat paints and streaks down
The dark hide.
The rider wears a bandana
Over mouth and nose,
Beneath a once white hat.
His clothes are covered with the trail.

Next, he's in the leather tub
With suds from chest to hair,
Shaving cream covering his face,
Mirror in one hand,
Probably a gun on the floor of the tub.
Eyes and nose poking through the foam.

Later, we see the clean, pressed black shirt
From the back, outlining shoulders we know
Have been busy righting wrongs.
He puts a cockey tilt to his hat and pivots
With a Parodi between his clean, straight teeth.
The champion. The underdog vanguard.
Clint.

Ruby lips etched sharply
Against a gauzy memory
Pensively floating on the hope
Of a love long lost.
She resides in a murky present
Time out of place
Creating a romance of a silky past
Delicately draped on her soft shoulders.
Locked in a whirlpool of faded emotions
She yearns for substance that is both
Supportive and translucent
Unsatisfied but not hopeless
Resting upon her reverie
Evening slips into night
Dreams envelop her.

Human romance
Interweb connection; dreamy
The words I loveth thee.

Angelic romance
Meeting one in person; realism
Taking plane or train, making it happen.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry

Just decide
who you're gonna be
how you're gonna do it
just decide
people can't do something themselves
they tell you, "you can't do it"
but you gotta Dream
you gotta protect it.
Nurture it
Build upon it
Its not the goal that will matter in the end, friends
what you become while striving for that goal
that's priceless
to be able to sacrifice what you are
to what you will become
that's *priceless