Mar 2016
FOR MY FRIEND CHARLIE
Why am I here… in this place… this room; sitting on this bed
What is this berth… how did I get here; shouldn’t I be home instead
That’s my hat upon my case, and it seems full… of what I wonder
Not my clothes I’ll bet… just filled with more confusion, I should ponder
The door is open… I could leave if I so choose; but do I dare
What am I sitting here for… to see someone; should I really care
I feel so old and tired… how did I become so old; and with this pain
Not just my body… but inside my head… my thoughts; am I insane
How can thoughts hurt… how can they instill this agony I feel
Is this where I should be; am I asleep… dreaming… is this real
I need to think… am I lost in some maze… have I tried to leave
Why can I not get up; just sadly clasp, my eyeglass case and grieve
Why this feeling of regret… do I lament something I have done
Why this sadness in my heart… is there nothing… is there no one
Am I alone… desolate; emptied of all my feelings… emotionless
Should I be sensing fear… rage… no, I yearn for life’s caress
Does someone love me… care about me… do I have a friend
Family… I must have someone… who would to me, his hand extend
Yet I sit alone… why… move… get up; go see beyond that open door
But no… not a sound do I hear… it’s never been, like this before
Why do I clench this eyeglass case; is there something there I treasure
Ah yes... the cross… from my wife’s rosary; it’s glued inside, for good measure
I have a wife… no… she died remember; that’s why the cross I glued in place
That’s why I hold it all the while; so each time I look at Jesus, I can see her face
I hold it like those kids their cell phones; in their hand, always at the ready
Kids…I have children… yes, I do; where are they, shouldn’t they be here already
No... they stopped coming… remember; they came at first… they come no more
I became… decrepit… tiresome… needy; to them, I became another… chore
…shush…someone’s coming………..
…. “HI DAD, HOW ARE YOU”
???Hello… should I know you…???
BOEMS BY JA 533
I must thank my wife for asking me, if I could write this piece.
Why am I here… in this place… this room; sitting on this bed
What is this berth… how did I get here; shouldn’t I be home instead
That’s my hat upon my case, and it seems full… of what I wonder
Not my clothes I’ll bet… just filled with more confusion, I should ponder
The door is open… I could leave if I so choose; but do I dare
What am I sitting here for… to see someone; should I really care
I feel so old and tired… how did I become so old; and with this pain
Not just my body… but inside my head… my thoughts; am I insane
How can thoughts hurt… how can they instill this agony I feel
Is this where I should be; am I asleep… dreaming… is this real
I need to think… am I lost in some maze… have I tried to leave
Why can I not get up; just sadly clasp, my eyeglass case and grieve
Why this feeling of regret… do I lament something I have done
Why this sadness in my heart… is there nothing… is there no one
Am I alone… desolate; emptied of all my feelings… emotionless
Should I be sensing fear… rage… no, I yearn for life’s caress
Does someone love me… care about me… do I have a friend
Family… I must have someone… who would to me, his hand extend
Yet I sit alone… why… move… get up; go see beyond that open door
But no… not a sound do I hear… it’s never been, like this before
Why do I clench this eyeglass case; is there something there I treasure
Ah yes... the cross… from my wife’s rosary; it’s glued inside, for good measure
I have a wife… no… she died remember; that’s why the cross I glued in place
That’s why I hold it all the while; so each time I look at Jesus, I can see her face
I hold it like those kids their cell phones; in their hand, always at the ready
Kids…I have children… yes, I do; where are they, shouldn’t they be here already
No... they stopped coming… remember; they came at first… they come no more
I became… decrepit… tiresome… needy; to them, I became another… chore
…shush…someone’s coming………..
…. “HI DAD, HOW ARE YOU”
???Hello… should I know you…???
BOEMS BY JA 533
I must thank my wife for asking me, if I could write this piece.
