Those sleepless nights,
Those petty fights,
The look in your eyes
When I held you tight.
How our hands fit so well
When they clasped together
I think of your voice,
But I just don't remember.

I think of your face,
I can see it so clear.
I think of the three words
I once held so near.
I remember your scent,
How your touch was so tender.
But the feelings I felt,
I just don't remember.

C. Alexander Blum

He likes the blue collar,
Pants with the stains.
Comes home from work with black hands and back pains.
There's just something not there, a difference in taste,
Which makes me so different from him.

I'll wash the whites but not white wash a lawn chair.
I'll read a book but I won't shoot a black bear.
I know what I want and I know how to get there,
Not by chopping down trees and developing chest hair,
But by using my mind                
And taking the time  
To make sure the words at the end of the line rhyme.

C. Alexander Blum