Don't call me your sweetheart,
I'm not your sweetie anymore;
your sweetheart left a while ago,
when I walked out that door.

At first, it was just quibbling,
why this, why that, what for?
then it became a battle,
then it became a war.

I just wanted love and kisses,
you wished to be, Top Gun;
what once was two in love,
was no longer any fun.

So I gave you what you wanted,
your freedom and your choice;
I hope that you're contented with,
the sound of your own voice.

So, don't call me your sweetheart,
what we had is void and gone;
and all we have are memories,
like in some old country song.

You reign supreme Lord,
in each and every day;
in each and every task,
Your word shows me the way.

You reign in power Lord,
in the varied things I do;
in the mundane things of life,
Your light is shining through.

You reign majestic Lord,
in the sunrise and its set;
in the process of my mind,
Your presence is there yet.

You reign above it all Lord,
soon all knees will bow to You;
and all will be Your servants,
in the things they say or do.

You reign in glory Lord,
and to You I give all praise;
in humble, simple fashion,
throughout my life-long days.

If I give my love to you,
would you handle it with care?
would you give it due respect,
can I count it, being there?
If I give you my tomorrows,
would I see them everyday?
would you honor all my dreams,
in those times when, you're away?
And will we have those moments,
when your hand's enclosed in mine?
when our hearts and souls embrace,
not just now, but all the time?
Can you treat love with the truth,
and not deny it with a lie?
can you give me honesty,
to succeed, not merely try?
Then I'll give my love to you,
knowing happiness will reign;
knowing that the days ahead,
our minds will be the same.

There is sunshine in the rain that falls from heaven,
golden sun-drops that you cannot see;
in the wetness of an autumn storm,
behind the clouds, waits clarity.

There is perfume in the air, when the rain is gone,
when earth stands fresh and washed, anew;
a colored bridge shines in the distance,
against a sea of vivid blue.

And like life, each storm is slowly passing,
some are rather brief and some are long;
we bid farewell to Summer's magic,
now we relish in September's song.

There is sunshine in the rain that falls from heaven,
through the mist that cools and covers all;
and we are ready for another magic season,
that will herald in, the reign of fall.

The whole world is spinning, out of control,
who is in charge? Does anyone know?
the President's golfing, the V.P. is not,
the whole of the core, is going to rot.

Now we're faced, with two different choices,
two unpopular people, two ugly voices;
both want to be first, in charge of us all,
and once more it's true, we're ready to fall.

Once a great nation, we've fallen aside,
due to stupidity, arrogance, pride;
the gap between rich and the gap between poor,
seems to be widening, just more and more.

The rich get richer, the poor, more worse off,
when we all plead our case, the skeptics just scoff;
they're blinded by money, and typical greed,
for crying out loud - how much do they need?

We're sinking in quicksand, and sinking quite fast,
where's the control? How long will it last?
there's only one fact, for this old, hardy soul,
the whole world is spinning and out of control.

Pour the words out slowly,
like wine into a glass;
speak your tortured soul;
and this in time will pass.

And let the tears fall freely,
do not hold them back;
and I will give you comfort,
from what your heart does lack.

Say goodbye to precious love
that comes but once for all;
retain the varied memories,
when first you heard its call.

Bow your head for just a while,
and let the sadness seep;
but remember what you had,
and what your mind will keep.

Pour the words out slowly,
in a cherished elegy;
to the one you dearly loved,
then simply, set him free.

There are times...like now,
when the summer sun is fading;
when the slant of light is on the windowpane,
underneath the awning, things are shading.

When the grass is freshly cut,
and lies basking in the field;
the earth seems graced with wonder,
at what the season's yield.

There are times...like now,
when the afternoon is ending;
when the twilight does her thing,
and the world keeps tilting, bending.

I welcome in, the evening,
when the roar becomes a lull;
discovering life's magic,
never stodgy, boring, dull.

There are times...like now,
when the fill of life is grand;
and splendid are the views,
from the spot whereon you stand.

I never asked for love,
it slapped me in the face;
I would have walked on by,
content with my own pace.

But one can't ignore a slap,
when it's planted on your cheek;
when it's a bolt out of the blue,
not something that you seek.

You have to pay attention,
to a thing such as a slap;
to what was not apparent,
on your human map.

I looked and then I looked again,
for once, was not, enough;
you took me by surprise,
my demeanor turned to fluff.

I stammered in my mind,
for what I proposed to say;
and then, before, I could speak,
you'd gone the other way.

The fat cats live among us,
atop the highest hills;
they don't take generic,
inexpensive pills.
Money is no object,
it must be wonderful;
to be above the simple,
middle-class or dull.
They're gated and secure,
locked up in their own space;
you don't know them personally,
only by their face.
They are the ones that rule
by the power of the dollar;
they've degrees you do not have,
the educated scholar.
The money grabbing miser,
who sits upon his throne;
who seldom sees his neighbor,
and does not throw a bone.

In Your Word Lord, I gather strength,
to face ahead, the days of wrath;
to surmount my daily problems,
to stay on, the righteous path.
When the nights, all seem too long,
when the sadness shakes the mind;
in Your song, I am protected,
in You, such happiness I find.
I praise Your name, up to the heavens,
where in angel's fields, You are;
ask for forgiveness and for mercy,
in the atmosphere of stars.
Pray that You, will always guide me,
on all roads that lead to life;
ease my trouble thoughts; and
see me past the world of strife.
In Your Word Lord, I seek peace,
that no one understands, but me;
only others, in Your shelter,
can see the treasure, that I see.

Crimson, was the color of the dress you wore,
the night, we danced, out in the square;
lunar beams, cast moon-glow on your face,
the breeze, caressed, your auburn hair.

We danced, to music no one else could hear,
that night, was just for us, alone;
the stars, were cast upon a cloak of black,
that night, they were like jewels that shone.

Held tight, we swayed to sounds of love,
embraced, we floated, in love's trance;
our feet and heart were whirling too,
in the throes of lover's dance.

Our love, like perfume, lingered on,
sweet and magical, we laughed aloud;
the two, of us, so all alone,
so separated from the crowd.

Crimson, was the color of the dress you wore,
the night, we danced, out in the square;
two dreams, one love and mystery,
dancing, in the mist of love... one pair.

I used to be, out of control,
when things did not go right;
I'd brush it all aside,
in hectic, anxious flight.
To "nurse" my angry words,
with a drink or maybe more;
I'd stomp out of the house,
and then, I'd slam the door.
I used to blame all others,
who'd cause me so much pain;
then, I'd act surprised,
when I did it all, again.
I'd curse them, in my misery,
and the outcome of my fate;
lashing at the one I loved,
and hurt my cherished mate.
It's only recently that I,
have learned to live in peace;
with love and understanding,
I gave my life...new lease.
I give my burdens up to Him,
He's  changed my life around;
and as that grand old song does go,
once lost...  I now... am found.
I used to be an enemy,
to myself and those I knew;
but when I followed God,
those pain-filled days were through.
So let me say a hallelujah,
let me sing a righteous song;
for tomorrow's looking bright,
as I bury all that's wrong.

Honor your father and mother,
and let your life be long;
it's the first law with a promise,
on it, you won't go wrong.

We all need the right direction
in the things we do and say;
as we journey in our youth,
and prepare to go our way.

Our Father rules with mercy
and kindly discipline;
and when we leave the "nest,"
the rules, they do not end.

Authority is placed by God,
there's always one bad apple;
those we must discard,
as though our life we grapple.

Honor's only rightful,
when morals are but good;
doing what we know is right,
not what we think we should.

Honor we must give, to God,
in the depth of daily battle;
though the earth does shake,
and though the sabers rattle.

A church is not a building,
it's a meeting of the people;
that need no graven images,
that do not need a steeple.

God doesn't need a temple,
He's found most everywhere,
except in minds of sceptics,
or those who just don't care.

The hearts of men are stunted,
inside, their souls are dead;
they have no Spirit in them,
just carnal thoughts instead.

They are not called to God,
they are but slaves to sin;
they perish with no knowledge,
blind to where they've been.

A church is not a building,
it's the people of the Word;
that adhere to God's commandments,
and the power of his sword.

Can't get enough of sunshine,
nor the wind upon my face;
can't get my fill of clouds,
or God's great, loving grace.

Can't get enough of mornings,
with the hint of pink-tinged dawn;
can't get my fill of nature,
that shouts out heaven's song.

Can't get enough of sunsets,
that fill the air with paint;
or views that look forever,
off cliffs that make me faint.

Can't get enough of music,
that's pleasing to the ear;
or the warmth of your embrace,
when you are passing near.

Can't get enough of living,
let us love until the end;
when we depart this world,
that's coming round the bend.

I don't think that I can find you,
when you're wrapped up in your shell;
when you go inside yourself,
you're demeanor's hard to tell.

I can't sort what's right or wrong,
all I know is, there is trouble;
and I cannot penetrate,
the hardness of your bubble.

You still remain a mystery,
someone, I thought, I knew;
someone I thought I loved,
but now, I can't see through.

You've gone and lost your self again,
a transient to the world;
locked in a web of silence,
no longer seen, unfurled.

I don't think that I can reach you,
to the place where you have gone;
and you've faded in my thoughts,
like an old, forgotten song.

When the darkness falls,
I hope you'll be secure;
in a place of safety,
in which you will endure.

When the twilight comes,
I hope you have God's grace;
in the shelter of His arms,
where you may find a place.

When the darkness falls,
and what we know is gone;
destruction will prevail,
and life will be a pawn.

When stars no longer shine,
and the way is hard to find;
follow God's great light,
that permeates your mind.

When the darkness falls,
know that the end is near;
but with His precious love,
we've nothing more to fear.

Tell her that you love her,
if, in fact, you do;
that you'd be lost without her,
in, in fact, it's true.
That her voice is lovely,
it's music to your ear;
that joy just overflows,
whenever she draws near.
Tell her that you cherish,
her love throughout the day;
that your heart pines for her,
when she's far away.
That she's worth waiting for,
that she is your sweet treasure;
that no one else comes close,
by any count or measure.
Tell her that you love her,
if, in fact, you do;
that it was love at first sight,
if, in fact, it's true.

There is earth, and there is sky,
and then there's You -
abundant food and water,
and dreams we never knew.
There are hills and heaven,
created by Your hand;
peaks with year round snow,
high - aloof - and grand.
There is rain that falls,
giving life to everything;
flowering in the month of May,
kissed by summer's wings.
There are stars... all scattered,
like diamonds in the night;
comets racing out in space,
transformed by burning light.
There is the heart, the soul, and You,
and us; a bit lower than an angel's grace;
but in the image of our Maker,
God touched the human's face.

The wind is ever constant,
in subtle waves, it moves;
it's felt and yet unseen,
invisible, breezy grooves.

Magic fingers in the air,
weaves its tapestry;
quite refreshing to the face,
that knows but does not see.

The air is sweet in Springtime,
the kiss of genesis;
beginning every March,
ending in June's bliss.

Weep not for winter's death,
embrace instead the Spring;
that quickens every step,
in what the season brings.

The hint of love in blossom,
the touch of day-time showers;
the scent of perfume in the air,
from sunny, blooming flowers.

Shimmering, quivering, aspens,
bask in the evening sun;
peaks of the mountains high,
grow purple as day is done.

In the dense, dark pockets of spruce,
the streams run fast and clear;
the forest, strong and silent,
harbor the wolves and deer.

It's spring-time in Arizona,
the intrigue of nature's show;
in glorious sun and shadow,
that causes the heart to glow.

It's the stillness of the meadow,
that tempers the buzz of day;
that in quiet meditation,
shows its presence, now, in May.

I drink the nectar of splendor,
and gaze at the feast of the mind;
contented to be here... to see,
the painting, that I alone find.

Cotton floating on the breeze,
falling gently in the air;
against the green of giant trees,
in skies so blue and bare.
No clouds to spoil the view,
just contrails passing by;
on a morn that's fresh and new,
with scenes that make you sigh.
Like snowflakes sown in May,
they flutter to the ground;
the leaves, in splendor, sway,
yet they make no sound.
The spores are fluffy...white,
they dance within the wind;
it's a spring time magic sight,
around each pathway's bend.
Walks like these, you treasure,
in the mind and in the soul;
the type we cannot measure,
but ones that make us whole.

Among the boulders- I escaped the wind,
settled for the shelter of the rocks;
just me and Jax and no one else,
on our daily different walks.

Jax never made a sound, no barks,
he was contented on this hike;
man's best friend was mine,
everyplace we went...he liked.

Even walking city streets,
strolling avenues;
I cured our boring morning,
as we chased away our blues.

Two vagabonds, just walking,
for exercise and joy;
a bond that lasts forever,
that death cannot destroy.

Perhaps we'll walk in heaven,
treading sacred clouds;
invisible to others,
two happy, wandering shrouds.

The sun is bright, the air is warm,
on this, my noontime walk;
the wind blows steadily,
but not enough to balk.
My legs are eager, full with grit,
my face, breaks into smiles;
snow-capped peaks are distant,
perhaps, a hundred miles.
The spring-time grass is golden,
like Kansas wheat in bloom;
I look at far flung valleys,
with ample, elbow room.
Serenity surrounds my soul,
engulfs me, with its calm;
I trek the rugged ridges,
the hiking...like a balm.
At night, the skies light up,
where the coyotes often croon;
I touch the stars with fingertips,
and then... caress the moon.

Do you want to live forever?
then in Him you must believe;
our flesh and bones will perish,
let the wounded heart not grieve.
The Spirit finds its way to God,
for God recalls His own creation;
and our death is temporary,
likened to a waiting station.
There will be a resurrection,
and we'll get a second chance;
to accept His sovereignty,
to be invited to His dance.
Then we'll be His great disciples,
with Love our first command;
sharing peace with other people,
it's part of His own perfect plan.
Flesh and blood are prone to sin,
in the Sprit lies salvation;
for every race and every one,
for every single nation.

We weren't meant to live forever,
here today and gone tomorrow;
Father Time has pulled his lever,
enter now, the grief and sorrow.
Life's sweet blossom fades away,
gone too soon, the gasping breath;
be thankful for this gifted day,
that doesn't end in our own death.
Sing a song of praise for living,
and celebrate this day of life;
grace the time with much forgiving,
gain the peace that obscures strife.
What we had, will pass forever,
yet a treasured piece remains;
for those we loved forget us never,
in our times of troubled pains.
Memories will last a lifetime,
and the good will never die;
and like the poetry we rhyme,
it won't fade with our last sigh.

Lord, you wash and replenish my soul,
Your gift of grace, it makes me whole;
You restore my faith, my very being,
open my shuttered eyes to seeing.

You satisfy this hunger in me,
And Your truth, with it, I'm free;
Your Word is comfort for my heart,
Praising You, where do I start?

You are a refuge from my troubled mind,
giving blessings as the day unwinds;
Your the Rock that gives me strength,
for You, I'd go to any length.

Your love is my one great foundation,
that saves me from this wayward nation;
I bow and pray with great thanksgiving,
for one more day that I'll be living.

To You alone, I give all Glory,
as to the world, I'll tell Your story;
how it was... You came to be,
how Your Son, he died for me.

The dawn is fast approaching,
the pink gives way to yellow;
the morning dew is fading,
the world is still yet mellow.

The splendid sun is shining,
is anything more grand?
let's take off to the meadow,
and climb the hilltop, hand in hand.

Let's forget about things pressing,
throw all caution to the wind;
laugh and kiss and tumble,
like the day will never end.

Gaze at the setting orb,
as the shadows creep on in;
walk down the grade at twilight,
when all the brightness dims.

Catch the coolness of the evening,
on the porch, upon the swing;
gathering thoughts of love,
and what the night will bring.

It's a maddening thing,
the breezes of the early Spring;
the pollen thick, you cannot see,
you're knocked out by your allergy.

The constant drip from your nose,
the weeping eyes, the tearful flow;
the coughing, and the sneezing,
inside your chest, you're wheezing.

Your mouth is dry from breathing,
cause your nose is plugged and seething;
your sinuses are clogged,
you feel like you've been flogged.

Comes the night, and you can't sleep,
the blankets round you, one huge heap;
then low-grade fever and the chills,
you've taken too many ******* pills.

Now your up, in the old recliner,
hoping things will get much finer;
alas; now you don't know what to do,
maybe it's the ******* flu.

Never see tomorrow with misgivings,
never see the past with sad regret;
have no qualms about the present,
of expectations that are not met.

Be content with treasures that you have,
faith in God, your family and friends;
good health, life's simple pleasures,
and a love you know will never end.

The quiet of a peaceful morning,
the splendid glory of a grand sunrise;
the scent of perfume on a summer's day,
the coos of doves... the eagle's cries.

The blue of heaven dotted with white clouds,
the rain that falls... gently on one's face;
the laughter of the one you love beside you,
the refreshment of her warm embrace.

Be glad for now and whatever comes hereafter,
bask in the sunshine and the shadows of your day;
savor all happiness that should come along,
as you enjoy each moment of life's day.

Love's not better, the second time around,
not with you at least, in quick time I found;
you hadn't changed your frame of mind,
you were  too ruthless and still unkind.

The years had only made you bitter,
the time you had with me, you'd fritter;
I had more good things to say and do,
than moan and whine or compete with you.

My one divorce for you was not enough,
you still remained embroiled and rough;
so you caused me to go and make it twice,
because your love to me, it wasn't nice.

I only wanted for you to meet me halfway,
but for you, there's only one ****** way;
you wanted to be the domineering one,
well now the place is yours...have fun.

But don't expect to see me anytime soon,
can't stay with someone crazy as a loon;
love's not better the second time around,
not with you at least; that much I found.

Silence is the sharpest sword of all,
for when it cuts you -
you'll not hear its fall.

Words cannot compare,
to cold silence;
its blank and hollow stare,
its muted violence.

Silence is the sharpest sword of all,
for you can't perceive its call;
it kills the thing that it loves best,
and puts all final things to rest.

All the love is silenced in one stroke,
all's been said and all's been done;
and life plays out its quiet joke,
underneath love's setting sun.

Silence is the sharpest sword of all,
for when it kills you,
you'll not hear its fall.

I never knew how high the moon could be,
when you left and never came to me;
it looked cold and sterile, too far away,
not quite like, romantic poets say.

It wasn't what this lover had in mind,
that drew together, two of a certain kind;
it was just an object, out there in space,
and for the life of me, I couldn't see your face.

A silver ball, hanging in the chilly air,
without attachments... or a care;
an orb that will never be the same,
because, no more, it does not speak your name.

And too, the stars, had lost their radiant shine,
perhaps they knew, no longer were you mine;
and so, the night was darker than need be,
knowing you, no more had love for me.

I never knew the night could bring such pain,
with its silence and its quiet, sad, refrain;
but then, I never chose to be so **** alone,
and like the night, so chilling to the bone.

You don't know me,

please, don't pretend you do;

I was a nothing to you...

just someone to *****.

Now I'm just discarded,

thrown away, like trash;

something soon forgotten,

like an irritating rash.

Like a candy wrapper, crushed,

like some stuff just thrown aside;

why leave me sad and naked,

with no safe place to hide?

You were never faithful,

you were never kind;

you were always trouble,

it seems I've lost my mind.

Don't pretend you know me,

stow it with your other lies;

ignore the plaintive wailing,

laugh at the futile cries.

I waded cautiously,  out into,  the open sea...

laughing,  as the waters covered me...

over my **** fool head!

Shall I tell you how it felt
when you left without a word?

It was like...
a door slammed in my face.

I await tomorrow's world,
the promises and hope;
that come to all believers,
as with today, we cope.

I await the sunshine,
that never fades away;
that dissipates the clouds,
that obscures our way.

The day when troubles end,
when all's replaced with joy;
that I knew in innocence,
when I was but a boy.

I await tomorrow's world,
when the morning star will come;
and our restless adversary,
will completely be undone.

I await with prayers and song,
to usher in that day;
when the world will be at peace,
when they will know the Way.

Wishing you were here again,
to shorten winter's night;
to curl up to my backside,
until the morning's light.

Wishing you were here again,
so my sleep would be just fine;
and we could share together,
the dregs of last night's wine.

Wishing you were close once more,
so I could touch your face;
hold you close within my arms,
in one great big embrace.

Wishing you were here, with me,
to put my heart together;
to ease my tortured thoughts,
to tell you you're my treasure.

Wishing you were here again,
with days that would not end;
to rectify my wounded soul,
and my broken heart, to mend.

Facing east at ten o'clock -
the sun feels warm upon my face -
the book is good and readable -
I liked its leisure pace.

The breeze was just enough -
I raised the collar of my shirt -
a reminder it was January -
the wind still cold and curt.

The silence of mid-morning -
was a balm that soothed my mind -
endless, cloudless, azure skies -
of that rare and precious kind.

No traffic noise, no squawking birds -
only quiet, healing, rest -
the little things of pleasure -
are the things that I love best.

Just an  hour of winter's sun -
then, I leave where I have been -
and stretch the aging body -
now content - to go back in.

Can we part and still be friends?
or is this where, our friendship ends?
is love a part of things now past?
didn't we think that it would last?

Love was meant to be forever,
not a memory of never;
we tried, but then we failed,
and without us, our ship sailed.

There was no life raft in our boat,
no solid thing on which to float;
fallen from the dreaded plank,
we floundered and we sank.

There's no revival in the end,
there's emptiness around each bend;
once we were a perfect pair,
now we really do not care.

We're just another bad statistic,
in a world that's gone ballistic;
another chapter turned to dust,
betrayal of an honored trust.

On a perfect winter's day,
I passed the time away;
walking in the hills,
so close to home;
thanking God I had the health
to do so,
the sweet ability to roam.
To marvel at the scene,
that reflected nature's screen;
that sent pleasure to my mind,
of the meditative kind;
that of wonders often seen.

In the places seldom viewed,
in the caverns of the deep;
where the pictures still remain,
where the images still leap.


I have walked the trails of sadness,
where no happiness is found;
where depression lies within,
of the tragedies around.
But the light is always shining,
although hidden by a cloud;
the sunshine will break forth,
from the grey, low-hanging shroud.


Light will always conquer darkness,
it's the voice of God that's speaking;
and the soul is filled with glory,
soon after all the weeping.

Do you think that you can  woo me,
with tender words from tender lips?
do you think your beauty moves me,
like the face that launched a 1,000 ships?

Isn't it I, that should be wooing you?
the man that gets just what he wants;
if for a fact,  I truly wanted you...
must you, your loveliness then flaunt?

I must admit, that you are beautiful,
and with your look, I melt like butter;
knocked silly by your charm and grace,
my throat goes dry; words I cannot utter.

Do you think I can be captured by a smile,
by looks of love that radiate from you?
I suppose that by it, I might then fall,
wondering if your love is really true.

Please, let me be the one to do the wooing,
let me run after you, like any mortal man;
are you still thinking you can woo me?
heaven knows... **** well...you can!

I know that love can lose its luster,
by things we do not do;
by words we never say,
or those we speak, are few.

I know that hope can fall apart,
by the obstacles we face;
by roadblocks in our path,
by life's insistent pace.

And I know that dreams can die,
by pressure to keep going;
when we lose our vision,
to conclusions of not knowing.

The hectic race is to survive,
and we must overcome;
in love and hope and dreams,
that are placed aside by some.

We must be monarchs of our fate,
and rulers of our soul;
for the body, mind and spirit,
to keep our being whole.

The winter's night is long and dark,
no longer can I sleep;
the new year's day comes silently,
quiet, cold and deep.

Once I watched it, as a youth,
with crowds of noisy voice;
partied, loved and laughed,
as if I had no choice.

But the parties now are over,
long gone, the boisterous crowd;
the love and laughter, subtle,
soft and gentle, never loud.

I sleep through fireworks,
let the young go on parade;
seek out the morning sun,
much more so than the shade.

The warmth is on my back,
frost melts upon the stalk;
my breath wafts in the air,
on my early morning's walk.

Snow, pure and ****** white,
greeted me at dawn,
kissed me in the night.
took my breath away,
as I walked in frigid weather,
but left without a trace,
at noon that day.
Snow was diamonds glittering,
in the sun's bright glare,
putting cold in second place,
with the beauty I did share.
Snow was God's white blanket,
sheltering the earth,
covering the treetops,
with its silent mirth.
Snow was winter's message,
of the approaching season;
of the turning of the new year,
for no specific reason,
other than the shifting,
of the planets quiet course,
with the guidance of God's hand,
as its origin and source.

When the first light of day,
is but a glow on distant peaks;
I walk my friend, my canine,
discoveries of day we seek.

The crescent moon above is lovely,
Venus glows with its bright light;
high above and further out,
Jupiter's a startling sight.

The cold is nipping at my nose,
the wind is quiet at this time;
I pack away my thoughts with pleasure,
for the making of a rhyme.

Dawn comes up and throws its rays,
canceling the darkened skies;
I see the Dipper fade from sight,
imagine stars that weep and cry.

Angels sing for this sweet morning,
heaven's choir praise all creation;
jubilant for God's great Son,
who watches over every nation.

This will be my final poem to you,
to exit, the door that I walked though;
too long, for nothing, I did stay,
far ago, the words I did not say.

You said I was the love of your life,
and consented to become my wife;
but way too far apart we grew,
and out the window, our love flew.

You stopped loving me, don't know why,
I never felt the change, or heard you cry;
it was like a bolt out of the blue,
I was clueless, but you always knew.

Time doesn't matter when love dies,
sometimes, no long and anguished cries;
just a silence that slithers in one day,
just a silence, that does not go away.

Then suddenly the union splits in two,
from troubled times that did accrue;
it's with regret, I voice we seldom tried,
the day you told me that your love died.

They'll shoot me in the morning,
for leaving my **** post;
by the time you get this letter,
I'll probably be a ghost.
Didn't want this ******* war,
stabbed the dummy and yelled "****!";
not my idea of passing time,
not my usual kind of thrill.
I'm a pacifist at heart,
learned my lessons the hard way;
now my Uncle Sam,
requires me to stay.
But I said, no, not going to,
I hopped he Greyhound Bus;
said good riddance to it all,
now, what's the ******* fuss?
A simple parting of the ways,
is all that I desire;
I got burned by Army brats,
got too close to the **** fire.
They'll shoot me in the morning,
with a blindfold... or without;
this poem's my legacy,
the last and final shout!

Remember when the earth was flat,
and Santa Claus was real?
when you were young and innocent,
before you learned to steal?

When ghouls walked down the street,
one cold October night,
and bats were known to **** your blood,
in one big, scary bite?

When the fairy took your tooth,
left a coin right in your bed;
underneath your pillow,
right beside your head?

When you found bright colored eggs,
hidden by the Easter Bunny;
who really was your Uncle Ben,
you thought that pretty funny.

They warped your little mind,
by imaginary things;
today you know reality,
and what tomorrow brings.

No Santa Claus, no ghouls,
no bloodsucking bats, no bunny;
life's a struggle to survive,
and that's not very funny.

In the valley of the sun,
I seek the shrinking shade;
trying to evade the brunt,
of the brutal heat of day.

A palm tree offers little,
their trunks are much too thin;
their fronds are separated,
it lets the sun right in.

Only at an inside mall,
can I find such relief;
too much exposure to old Sol.
can cause a heap of grief.

I don't want no cancer of the skin,
so I slap on the sunscreen thickly;
to remain a healthy human,
I don't like being sickly.

It's too **** hot to go outside,
the heat and sun, of course;
I'm thinking very seriously,
to pack and move...up north.