Wherever I walk
always there is an absence
walking beside me..

-

Some call me romantic
But I don’t think that’s true
I just write down these feelings
I have inside for you

I have no formal training
No poetry degree
Just a pen and paper
I keep in front of me

So when I think about you
Which happens all the time
I scribble out some phrases
That often seem to rhyme

Perhaps they look like verses
They’re kept in groups of four
And filled with my affection
For someone I adore

And yes some are poetic
Though that is not my plan
I just want you forever
I want to be your man

Okay…they sound romantic
And maybe I am too
But it’s not really all that hard
To write down I love you

It was ten years ago today
That his wife died. He was going to retire
But the Lighthouse needed his care.

There was a ghost in the basement
Or was it just a trick of the light.
If it was, it  just wasn't fair.

The deepness of the foghorn's call
Kept him from missing one single soul.
When someone stopped to visit he'd just sit and stare.

Many people came to ask him to leave
But he just held tight.
To leave would be more than he could bear.

It was ten years ago today
That his wife died. He was going to retire
But the Lighthouse needed his care.

One thing that he never knew
Was that he was the ghost in the basement.
He was the ghost that was sitting in the chair.

By: Cedric McClester

It’s all about money
‘Cos he doesn’t have a soul
Pound for pound he’s the best around
Though he’s still an *******
He’s amassed a fortune
All that glitters isn’t gold
And he can't take a cent with him
At least that's what I’m told

Floyd “Money” may weather
Another boxing storm
While bragging about all he’ll make
And not see nothing wrong
He’s a little hard to take
But we knew that all along
Blessed or cursed for heaven’s sake
He’s an old familiar song

All his money and possession
Hasn’t bought him happiness
Though the way he carries on
You would never guess
Which goes to prove the old adage
Sometimes more is less
Conspicuous consumption
Doesn’t make you a success

He can go to strip clubs
And then make it rain
But all the money in the world
Can’t camouflage his pain
He’s on a giant ego trip
Which perhaps explains
His lack of self-esteem
Despite the wealth he gains










© Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.