I seem to think often of the,
whispers of Angel wings
in the devils ear
late at night,
Pitter patter,
of smokey,
wet, rain drops,
falling
carelessly
upon the late blooming
moon flower vines,
I wonder what secrets,
the wings of Angels
whisper,
into Satans silver ears?
Secrets the rain drops carry,
to the flower vines perhaps?~agb

I asked a question,
once

Can you please give me lead boots
just incase
I float away?
~AGB

You’re never going to have the cake
Learn to like the taste of bread.

You’re never going to wear diamonds
Learn to appreciate cut glass.

You’re never going to hear applause
Learn to marvel at the stillness.

You’re never going to win the gold
Learn to admire the shine of silver.

You’re never going to be adored
Learn to love just being liked.

You’re never going to live forever
Learn to be your best today.
ljm

I have no purpose any more.
I’m a painter who’s gone blind
And a singer who’s gone deaf.
There is no call for what I sell.

I still daub colors on a board
To smell the Linseed Oil again
I hear the music in my head
And mouth the words in silence.

There is no surgery or cure,
What’s gone is lost forever.
And I must find a way to live
In silent darkness, if I can.
ljm