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Many stories are written
Only some are true
But from my lips come truthfulness
As I share my dreams with you.

I have been through many trialed times
As my lovers love and then leave
Too many tears have fallen
Too many to ever conceive.

Then came the day
When love bestowed
A heart so warm and kind
The heart that I've been looking for
Yet never thought I'd find.

And now that it's been found, my dear
I'm  never letting go
I've lots of love inside of me
And to only you I'll show.

But be careful of my naive heart
For it breaks so very easy
I only ask for love and trust
It don't take much to please me.

My dreams have finally happened
My dreams have finally come true
I've found a place called paradise
When I found the one called you.
©1980
Sometimes
you just need to
scream.

Sometimes
crying is the
answer.

Eventually
you will be
happy.

There is
someone
who cares.

You may feel
as if nobody
does.

You'd be surprised.

You are a
human being.
Not an  object.

Do not let
anybody
treat you
like their toy.

There is life in you.
You bring life to others.
Others need you
in their life to live.

Like a forest
with no trees,
Without you
there is no life.

Like a beach
with no sun,
without you
brightness is absent.

Whatever it is
Whatever is wrong
Put it behind you.

You are important.
Someone needs you
just like you need
someone.

Don't give up.
Things get better.
Where we stand
Things at hand.
Sifting sand
Flames are fanned.

Not far off
In a trough.
Selfish quaff
Freedoms doff.

On which side
Will you ride?
Of this slide
You'll abide?

No insight
Of their fright.
To the light
Eyes shut tight.

Why deny
Never try?
As we buy
And let die.

People yell
What the hell?
Can you tell
when to sell?

State of sin
All are in.
What to win
From this din?

What is fair?
As all stare.
Do beware
Lest you err.

And what toll
From your soul?
Does the whole
reach their goal?

In the end
Did they fend?
Did they mend?
Or love send?
My poem may be yours indeed
In melody and tone,
If in its rhythm you can read
A music of your own;
If in its pale woof you can weave
Your lovelier design,
'Twill make my lyric, I believe,
More yours than mine.

I'm but a prompter at the best;
Crude cues are all I give.
In simple stanzas I suggest -
'Tis you who make them live.
My bit of rhyme is but a frame,
And if my lines you quote,
I think, although they bear my name,
'Tis you who wrote.

Yours is the beauty that you see
In any words I sing;
The magic and the melody
'Tis you, dear friend, who bring.
Yea, by the glory and the gleam,
The loveliness that lures
Your thought to starry heights of dream,
The poem's yours.

— The End —