you say my writing is
beautiful
but you forget that you’re
the one
inspiring it

I know I'll die and when it comes
I want no flowers displayed
I will hate you if you offer flowers at my wake
Why didn't you do when I was alive?
When I can enjoy the moment,
When I can feel special and loved,
It's unfair for you to give me flowers
At the time when I am withered,
Couldn't breathe,
Not able to appreciate,
And not able to say thank you for it.

She is my moon and sun
She pulls my tides
And brings heat to my skin
She fills my darkness
And brightens my skies
And even when there are clouds
I know she is there
Waiting for the storm to fade
For the earth to turn
So I can see
Yet another side of her

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