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In my room by old window,
As turn lights are dimmed,
The face of new shy moon
Presents a dream genuine,

Simply the light of my love,
As you haunt me enthralled
I hear the sweet doves coo,
In the morning stillness call,

Your photo beams a shout,
As it whispers from my wall,
Silent, as the sun lights out,
Under the moon at nightfall.

Memories swirl in my diary,
I remake what has now fled,
What simple pleasures cry,
In jots for moony tears shed,

Window to worlds now sad,
In faintest light beyond true,
My black haired, lovely lad,
I will always remember you.
I refuse to be one of those people
that everyone chooses to love once she is dead
Don't wait until I'm lifeless and can no longer hear you
to start giving a **** about me
If I wasn't good enough for you while I was alive
I sure as hell won't be good enough for you when I'm dead
If there is something you need to tell me
do it while I can still hear you
If you want to see me
make plans with me
If you love me
tell me while I am still here to love you back
Do not wait until I am a pile of ashes
to confess everything you ever wanted to say to me
WRITTEN BY: Mandie Michelle Sanders
WRITTEN ON: February. 25, 2016 Thursday 6:04 PM
Grandsons, yes, I'll hug you.
Hug you and hug you and hug you
until you say
"Grandpa let go!"
But I won't, not ever.
Never, never, never.
I watch you boys sleep.
I watch you boys play.
I watch you fight,
Cry, yell and scream.
I watch you laugh and giggle,
and run like the demons are chasing you.
But even if they are,
they'll never catch you,
because Grandpa is here.

I listen to your chatter and reply in kind.
Hear your tales of invention flood
from your little minds.
Stories and adventures,
A little boy's world.
Grandsons, dear Grandsons,
You fill the hours of the day.
Grandsons, yes, I'll hug you.
Hug you and hug you and hug you
until you say
"Grandpa let go!"
But I won't, not ever.
Never, never, never.
 Apr 2016 Mizzy
ryn
Precarious
 Apr 2016 Mizzy
ryn
We hang
precariously
by the lies
we present as truth.

Dispensing tainted words
we thought inconsequential.
Ill-conceived notions
we sowed and nurtured.

But now we dangle
by the skin
of our fingers over this cliff...
Desperately clawing
to find purchase...
And gravity is a
mean *****.
No more Big City
No Working Man Blues
No more Swinging Doors
No more patriotic tunes

No more California Cottonfields
No Bonnie and Clyde
No Amazing Grace
No Always on My Mind

No more the Way I Am
No Waiting For A Train
No more Where Have All The Hobos Gone
Or When My Blue Moon Turns To Gold Again

Goodbye Mighty Merle
Thanks for the gift you gave
There will never be another
Who can take your place

To me you were the best
Singing for the working man
I only wish my friend
I could have shook your hand

RLB

You were the best country music has ever known.
Never am I hurt,
By those to whom lifes breath is no more giving,
Yet I fall daily wounded,
By ones who walk among the living.

RLB
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