A little man sat by my bed
As I lay there full of dread
I said "Do you ever sleep?"
The sight of him just made me weep

He lifted up his little cap
Then asked me what I thought of that
I said "Why don't you go away
And not come back another day"

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2017.

He said I always write sad poems
who I am with you,
is really who I am with my writing
I tell it like it is. I always say what I mean
It might be the poignant anxiety of my mind

I observed people, observing them make me
Wondered about their lethargic self-control over their own life
If it’s not about health, it’s about their love life  
Believe it or not, watching them helps me
Get through a rough morning:
When I compose their pitiful stories,

It gives me an adrenaline rush, so I unwind
With a paragraph or two, dropping my ideas here and there
While I pondered about their state of mind
I learn from their mistakes, I bottle them in an old Mason jar

And I move on to my next subject, and that would be
The images and faces of Political madness
in two thousand and seventeen

My followers, my friends!
The Liberal minded is dragging us down minute by minute
Yes, I love to write about sad things
That fetter me. The dead can’t write about them
The fearful are too afraid to speak up,
A good rehab center is so hard to find,  
No wonder they had to make marijuana legal
So I had to touch on certain subject before I die
Their isn’t love in the world today
The little that is left, someone wants to buy it

Self-respects and self-esteem, we must try to distinguish between the two my friends

Staying silent is like a slow growing cancer to the soul and a trait of a true coward.


,

I shall build my bathroom vanity to suit my person needs
        In a marble glossy white strip featuring tea leaves
Where the sunset would lift my morning moods
As I quietly sit on the toilet with the latest Bluetooth
  
I shall lie on my high pillow top bed
        And listen to the sound of the larks
While the wild baby monkey sits on the ledge
        Where tiny soldiers of marching ant crawl in the dark

I shall refreshed my house with Natural Aromatherapy Incense
        Just to keep evil away,
and in addition keeping the blessing in
While broods of Dominique hen cackling makes a loud annoying song

       In the year two thousand forty-two, I will represent
As for now, I am planning and waiting for my long awaited retirement

Feeling so worn out: