I was a fool
thinking it was real
the difference in ages
was too much

the ring was on your finger
not through your nose
pushing me around
in this wheelchair is
something neither of
us planned for.

i can not blame you
for wanting a better life
you are still young,
whereas i am an old *******

so i must let you go
life never promised to be fair
but i can at least be realistic

My mind
down dusty corridors, i wander
everywhere lie the discarded thoughts
of a disorganized and undisciplined mind
still its called a thought...

reminiscent of a once busy museum
now deserted and seemingly long forgotten
Then turning a corner,i find myself
suddenly in the midst of a hive of
activity.

A new Curator has come with fresh ideas and input
now my thought has become serious thinking...
which I poured on a piece of blank paper
hmm... now read what an impressive thought
I think it is ...
written on a piece of white sheet
After some painful moments of writer's block..
from once a very disorganized mind..
Walla... a poem written by me at last

The Full Moon
Brings to mind
red eyed vampyres
witches covens
wolves howling

but to me it is
beautiful ,a soft cool wind
black pinpricked skies
the flickering red/whitelight
of a passing jet

the distant view of a
thunderstorm
nothing is nicer than to
view the world at night