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Alan W Jankowski Jan 2012
An honest man who worked real hard,
And did his best throughout his life,
To clothe and feed his proud family,
His four children and his wife.

Born in the early twentieth century,
He knew that times were often tough,
But he always did whatever it took,
To ensure his family had enough.

A gentle man who spoke with kindness,
And ungraciousness was never heard,
Who still believed in God and family,
And knew the value of a man’s word.

Some would say he was old fashioned,
He rarely drank and did not smoke,
But he was always there to lend an ear,
And always the first to offer a joke.

A kinder, gentler, more honest man,
Could never be found anywhere,
And I know as sure as there’s a Heaven,
That you will find my Grandpa there.

03-17-11.
An idea I've had for a while...dedicated to one of the kindest, most thoughtful men I've ever met...
Alan W Jankowski Jan 2012
Is happiness something far out of reach?
Something for which we must strive.
Like some far off destination,
Where we hope someday to arrive.

Or is happiness just a commodity?
Something that can be bought,
Or is happiness something we all can learn?
Something that must be taught.

Is our happiness in short supply?
That may someday come to an end,
Or is there enough to go around?
That we can share it with a friend.

There are many things we’ll never know,
Like an envelope that’s always sealed,
And yet as we pass through life,
The answers are slowly revealed.

For we‘re all here for a reason,
As we pass from young to old,
And the longer that we live it,
The more answers will unfold.

And though we entered the world that way,
We were never meant to be alone,
And though we may often try,
We can’t do it all on our own.

For I believe happiness is our purpose,
And a purpose made to share,
To help make happy the ones we love,
And show them that we care.

And whatever our purpose in life may be,
And only time will truly tell,
My only hope is that I’ve served it,
And served my purpose well.

03-13-11.
This is actually the first poem of mine to come out in a book...a friend of mine wrote "Happiness is not a destination" on his Facebook status...and I read it and wrote this poem...
Alan W Jankowski Jan 2012
I’d heard about social networking,
And how it was the next big thing,
So I just had to take a look,
And ended up on Facebook.

It only took me a little while,
To fill out most of my profile,
But I have spent many a night,
Figuring out the rest of the site.

I never realized I had so many friends,
The friend requests never end,
All the people I can’t stand at work,
And now the biggest high school ****.

I have to admit I’ve learned a bunch,
I know what all my friends eat for lunch,
And it really helps me that I know,
Everyone’s favorite TV show.

The work on Facebook never stops,
I have to water my imaginary crops,
Send get-well wishes to Farmville quick,
My friend’s imaginary cow got sick.

I now realize my chances are dire,
Of ever building a Mafia empire,
And perhaps it is a bit of a shame,
My It Girl will never go on to fame.

My kids' statuses tell me of their life,
At dinner time I get poked by the wife,
I try to keep my friend count nice and fat,
So, I even signed up the dog and cat.

I guess you can say my life’s complete,
I have more friends than I’ll ever meet,
On Facebook I can roam far and wide,
And I never have to go outside.

02-19-11.
Admit it...you knew this had to be coming...inspired by a comment by the owner of another site about how she did not understand Facebook because "there is no water cooler, and people just talk about what they had for lunch"...
Alan W Jankowski Jan 2012
My job I really don’t mind,
It’s the people and the work,
Especially the guy next to me,
Who personifies the word “****.”

I wish he would do something,
Anything to earn his pay,
Instead he just gets on my nerves,
And my nerves are starting to fray.

This **** is looking for a better job,
And keeps asking me for advice,
Do I look like a Google search bar?
But instead I just try to be nice.

He actually asked me for a referral,
And I looked at him just fine,
I’d like to give him a referral alright,
To the unemployment line.

This ***** better start to realize,
And I hope he does somehow,
That the next job he’ll be applying for,
May be the one he’s holding now.

02-04-11.
This one was inspired by a comment a ******* another site made about a co-worker...it was not actually written about one of my co-workers, past or present...though it could have...
Alan W Jankowski Jan 2012
When friends betray friends,
With words less than kind,
It tears apart the friendship,
And all the ties that bind.

When friends betray friends,
It hurts you to the core.
All the trust and love,
It all goes out the door.

Like an ice cold sword,
That tears through your heart,
When friends betray friends,
It will tear your soul apart.

All the love and friendship,
Built up from the ground,
When friends betray friends,
It all comes crashing down.

And all that peace and harmony,
Built throughout the years,
When friends betray friends,
You’re left with only tears.

01-26-11.
Alan W Jankowski Jan 2012
My love did sometimes wander,
And my thoughts did often roam,
From the one who held them dear,
And gave my love a home.

But I was young and restless,
And my heart would long to play,
Never thinking of the one I’d hurt,
When my love would go astray.

They say if you play with fire,
You sometimes will get burned,
And though the lessons were often hard,
The lessons did get learned.

For I know my heart belongs right here,
With the one whose love is true,
And if my thoughts should wander again,
They will wander back to you.

01-20-11.
Just another poem of love, infidelity, commitment, remorse and whatever...
Alan W Jankowski Jan 2012
I sit at my computer desk trying to think,
I pick up my coffee and start to drink,
I've been up all day and into the night,
Wracking my brain for something to write.

Just sitting around all day at home,
Hoping to write the next great tome,
But my progress has been terribly slow,
The words simply don't want to flow.

I realize to reap the glory and wealth,
My novel is not going to write itself,
It's my own project, I understand,
Though I wouldn't mind a helping hand.

I look at my dog and she starts to stare,
If she has any ideas, I wish she'd share,
I'd gladly give her any credit due,
Even buy her a bone or two.

But she looks at me with nothing to say,
It's clear that she just wants to play,
She goes to the corner and fetches her ball,
I can see that she is just no help at all.

01-12-11.
Some dogs are just no help...no idea where this one came from...
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