I need to say Goodbye
but to whom I'm not sure
Soothing a pain in my heart
wondering if there is a cure
Feel I've lost a love
although I don't know where
Sitting peaceful and still
searching for a memory somewhere
Wandering away from reality
into the extend of my mind
Is it respite or retreat?
Pulled firmly by my heart I find
Not sure how long I'm absent
or if all of me returned
Yearning for lost memories
that contained all I had learned

In the dark we are all strangers
with just a voice, never seeing,
judgment of others only by the
tone of a voice.

The darkness covers are faults,
not of our own. but what others
would think, it is a cloak that
hides us in a blanket of secrets.

Would we touch around, hands
to one self, or feel others features,
woman or man, does the voice match
what you thought the features would
be like.

Darkness is a blanket that hides
misconceptions of others, hiding
religion, skin tone, looks are nothing
in darkness as this all melts away, for
in darkness we are one and the same...

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

I am writing these poems
From inside a lion,
And it's rather dark in here.
So please excuse the handwriting
Which may not be too clear.
But this afternoon by the lion's cage
I'm afraid I got too near.
And I'm writing these lines
From inside a lion,
And it's rather dark in here.