I put apart the yellows and the blues
fix my blemish, curl my hair and got new shoes
zip the skirt up and on my tiny waist
with trimmings of white and some expensive lace

I wore grand mother's pearls and a diamond ring
I wore a smile and a purse with a sling
My lips red and sparkles in my eyes
I wore a voice so sweet it never dared to tell lies

"she's really a beauty " they whisper and say,
"I think it's cause she lost all that weight."
nails all polished, clasped hands to pray
"I really hope they will love me this way."

I've  gone too far to be something of your fancy
I've turned into pretty but it's me you can't see
those days carefree, those days i miss
but you will never love me like this.

you will never love me when
the yellows and blues I can't seem to put apart
but I pride myself for having a bigger heart
when my curls have faded and my shoes are broken
and the trimmings and lace run loosely unwoven

I want  you to love me  when
I speak of  pieces I hold
the stories and truth  from surface unfolds
like pearls that held memories of my dead grandmother
and a big diamond ring from an unfaithful lover

Cause it's hard to love me when
my lips are dried pale mumbling rude curses,
and  I only really buy second-hand purses
my eyes only sparkle cause I'm holding  back a tear
and my voice may be sweet but it could lie too, I fear.

So i guess im back to putting on a pretty dress
Stitch up the laces and clean up my mess
Keep a sweet voice with something nice to say
Cause maybe you'll only love me this way.

The clock ticks faster everyday,
seconds that beat rapidly away

As minutes pass,
I glimpse into the past
My mind gets stuck,
in a time capsule cast

Remembering when time
had moved much slower,
but  it speeded up
as I grew  older

Once hoping it wold
hurry up its tock
Now wishing that
it would come to a stop

Forward it moves in eternity
quickly it is reminding me
of the direction that it goes
and I cannot tell it to slow

A speed of illusion
that continues to turn,
a motion that keeps going
and does not return

For when I'm gone
will there still be a ticking clock,
or would it be a memory
that cannot be forgot

I am an immigrant in my home,
stranger to those to whom I have known

Something is standing in the doorway,
so I scream, Just Go Away

As I stare straight ahead,
it seems as though my mind has fled

People come and then they go,
wondering if their a friend or foe

Suddenly I am alone,
in a place not one can go

As I lay here in my head,
Amongst the living, I am dead

Not many tensions,
nor any excitement
Life has ever been
a placidly flowing river!

Single and free!

Over differences,
never been any disputes
never had to consult,
nor seek consent

Single and free!

but doesn’t his house
with its cold, mildewed air
reflect his heart?
A house so full of things:
a hoard of well stacked books,
exquisitely carved Victorian furniture,
antique collection of curios,
ornate drapery

Yet so full of nothing!

The prim order of the house
never disturbed by naughty hands
nor shuffled by dusty feet
dirtying the Persian carpets
 or smudging the glistening floor

The well laid bed covers
never get creased
by the body’s desire
and Love’s tight embrace
and never, they bear
the fragrance of female scent!

Sometimes he would shake
from foot to crown
at a question hurled by
an unknown voice;

“Did you squander away your life?”

Then he recognizes….
he has been a lone traveler
ever walking through
a one way lane
that will wind off
with a few more steps!
If, by chance somewhere
a new track
branches out
he would no more be
a solitary *****!
There would be a companion
to hold hands!

Now it is too late!