I cry for things I might have done
And who I might have been.

I cry for opportunities missed
And enterprise that failed.

I cry for hands I might have held
That somehow I let slip away.

I cry beause the time is short
With so much treasure left unfound.

I cry because it’s the only thing
That’s somehow left for me to do.
                  ljm

the trees are burning
and the worlds a turning
toilet paper cannot be found

we're sick of the struggle
we stay in and snuggle
pray we make it safe and sound

poetry comes easy
when i'm at my most queasy
when my heart is still trying to heal

emotions are not friends
they'll turn on you in the end
overwhelm you until you don't know what to feel

Though we are separated, we will always be connected