In my life I've dealt with grief.
Deaths of family, friendships and innocence.
Still I'd hoped that life and time would make up,
become friends and chime a tolling bell of peace.
Thought ruins dreams.
There is inside us a black so dark we become a void.
Why try searching for the light?
The light has gone aground.
Mankind has ***** this fruitful earth,
despoiled its beauty and its worth.
Money means more than humanity.
Desecration of this fair planet and its inhabitants
justified by the men in suits.
News is just a propaganda tool,
it makes a mockery and a fool of us.
We line up for bargains, forgetting the unfed
We lie to ourselves that good still exists.
Where? When even religion becomes contentious.
Guns, bombs, hate, greed, ****** of the innocents,
who among us opened the seventh seal?
The Seventh Seal was it opened by blood mixed with oil on the altar of greed?
If so, it wasn't done in my name.

Their are times when I wish I could recapture some of the past
and have good memories that would always last and not fade over time
There are times when I can recapture something if only for a moment
A taste a smell, reminding me of a loved one lost, but for a little while at least I feel happy and content and in a way feel somehow transported back in time.
I call it the tastes of childhood, like when I was in Grandma's kitchen I remember the smell of her M&M; cookies, I have never since tasted cookies so fine
I remember my Dad making polish sausages bought fresh from the local sausage house, my mouth just waters just thinking about it even though I just ate.
Then on Sundays we would all gather around the table together as a family and eat together which was quite a feat, considering a family  of nine children, and everyone seemed to scream out I want a leg all at once, which was a problem being chicken fryers back them did not consist of all legs; I still don't know how my parents managed the chaos of all us  children

I also remember my dad smelling of Old Spice and I think it was nice
I wonder if you to will be transported down memory lane, if only for a moment
What are your tastes of childhood? feel free to share

Of what use to the King is all his money
When, to play, he has no daughter?
With what else can a Pauper bother
When his daughter yearns for honey?

Lately my thoughts
have been reduced
to suicide and intoxication.
      Lying in bed at night
   looking for any kind
  of good-vibration.
Obviously I've been nothing
      but ****-out-of-luck.
Because every morning
         that I wake-
    I feel like nobody gives
           a ****.