Dead Horse on the race track

If this is happiness, then sadness is on layaway
     Then my futuristic plans is chalking out my future
Better to know, before stepping into the horse’s droppings
     Than this upside of uncertainty of man’s failure:
To me it’s stressful, but not always bad:

When the dark clouds clear, the sun will appears:
Those long months, those lonely hours,
Always rolls back to and stay low on flat surfaces:
January, February, March, May
and June always, goes by so fast;

I have past the one hundred and eighty one mark for this year
I add more to my bucket lists: I am single and free
I haven gotten a deep French kiss throughout those months
Not even a little hello **** or a grab by
the ***** approach from the perverts
but I am moving on: and loving it…

The whispering night, the silence ring tones,
It’s better off without the whimpering whimper:

**Better to flee from death than feel its grip.
HOMER, The Iliad

But that’s the beauty in loving someone, all those limbs to jump from.

I'm at home with my thoughts;
It's not quite quiet if one thinks a lot.
At the oddest time they rage, then storm;
Rack and thunder or light my night;
A wind whirls into a gale,
And thoughts teem on the page.
Some take root,
Produce sweet fruit,
Others wither on the line.
So many thoughts I'm at home with,
I'll pick one to grow a poem with.

It's so very quiet tonight,
The mist makes no sound
The creatures are bedded,
Not a soul to be found.
There's a stillness around,
A spirit could get lost
Above the ground.
Only the glam of stars
Pierce the velvet backdrop.
Like a slender grackle,
I **** my head
To hear distant horns and whistles.

Death came too soon:
To be precise on a Saturday afternoon
it ended or did it not?

To all who knew her felt the pain?
But what lead up to that hour: was a crying shame
Her eyes were full of life
Her heart bled for her offspring
Right up to her last dying breath
It ***** to keep a secret,
Jealousy is a disease, fear is mind killer
a killer was on the loose.

Two deaths, two stories
Double sins, double tragedy
But, oh, the feeling she left behind,
The questions, no answers, so little time to reflect
Humanity is sickened by one horrific headline after another
I wondered who is going to be next:
I trust my life to an earthquake more than to any lover
Raged like rough sea, against the salty rocks,
Holding on like sea ***** never letting go,

1 Corinthians 15:54, 55:
“Death is swallowed up in victory.
O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”

To the one they left behind,
To the one who weep at the open graves,
To the one who silently stood by?
And never give a helping hand,

To the ones who knew these kind of persons
And stay silent: isolation is also a killer;
To the ones who grieves and respond to loss
A mother who loss her daughter:
Two death, two untold stories..

He erased his love for me,
Swept it up so,
I wouldn’t linger,
Long,
Longing for his embrace,
Only lies left,
Heart unbalanced,
Heart beating,
Barely,
Breathing,
Stop.

The earasing hands of time will never reach you
Where I’ll keep you
Tucked in my pocket
A one line ryhme
Take you out
Unfold and hold you