The Voice of reason

Forty years ago, and just a six years ago
When I gave the appreciation hug
I never knew,
The hug meant so much more
Affection beyond words

In the light of things
Without thinking of it, it was my
Impetuous behavior that stunned others

My friend wife never forgave him
for reaching out to me:
The more he yelled out my name
The tighter she held on to his leash
I smiled and wave at humiliation
At its worst:
He should have change course long ago,
and said Amen:

Blind in one eye, plenty of scar on his hand,
Rising veins of frustration for this dying man
Signs of a Battery spouse-syndrome
My heart bleeds for my weak friend
: To be continued...................

She wore a dress cut from the night sky
scattered with stars and dreams
and her smile
had a mischievous curve at each end
and a hint of magic glittered
in the colors surrounding her eyes
and she spoke in a voice
that echoed with the beauty of poetry
and he was tempted to crawl away
from the shyness that lived in his bones
and he managed to make small talk
but fell short of bravery
and slunk into the night without stars
and a dream that knew only her name

Looking at losing me

It’s the insides that turn, as I ***** the hate
Me there in pastel, doing the task: unfeeling
Room 400-448.....
In my pockets I carry the purple gloves,
I have a little sense of humor for the Putin’s outcasts
And zero tolerance for the ungrateful faces

 I regrets the years of lying back and letting opportunities passed me by.

Paralyzed with fear, the stench of death, sores my eyes.

   My childhood years and home seems hallowed, pure, in comparison
To those rooms, of horror, I am never smiling, only speaks when spoken to

The Likes and dislike relationship between the downtrodden and me
Are based solely on a professional level:
The place of my birth haunts me sometimes,
But yet I regret at time for leaving: while I feud at life

My memories are so dear to my heart, without being biased
My resume, which is to say is impressive, however, my caramel color
Was my downfall, not enough privilege?
Not enough financial opportunity to break through?

Here I am daily putting on a united front like a true trooper
If you ask thousands like me, Should I keep my feeling to myself?
Should I toss the purple gloves aside for a keyboard, pen and paper?
Some said that I should be grateful and not be resentful:

To be on the clock nine to five: for what low income testing
Should I be happier? I just cannot
Not on their clocks