A happy face I saw– unknown,
yet it felt so familiar,
like someone I have known,
That smile, that face,
why can't I forget?

Were you for real,
or just a dream
my waking eyes
happened to see?

Before I met my wife
I was incomplete
Now I'm finished.

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                                 Reading the Room

I don’t know to read a room, but look –
I’m still pretty good at reading a book!

Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                    I Gave my Friend a Poem for Her Birthday

I gave my friend a poem for her birthday
“It’s not as much fun as an electric train,” she said,
“But it’s pretty good.”

And when you cry, we will
weep with you.
But not for pity — not grief.
It is for triumph.
You made it.

True?
Applause.

Your hard work, finally,
paid off.
– fin.

A prion.
A parasite.
A writhing mass.

It is woven into one,
not by needle,
nor machine,
but by absence.

It is kind.
It destroys the mind.
It seeks a way.
Yet hated it remains.

Silently within,
pulsating with darkness,
twisting with curiosity,
it craves mercy.

A decay and a rot,
one not of flesh and bone.
This is one of isolation,
this is being alone.

You used to be the place
Where I’d unravel all my sins
Now I don’t know where to start
Because I don’t know where you end