I miss you my dear friend.  
I really wish I could have said
my last good bye.

Before your spirit transcended
into the white empty sky.

I sat at home
I just wished I had visited you and  seen you
that last time again before
you flew into the Heaven's.

I regret not being there on the day of your funeral and never being able to truely pay my respects.

I did not want to ruin that day for you.

I do wish I had been more braver to be able to attend on the day and  that I was able to say what I really wanted to say about you.

I just always seem to ramble on  and get my words wrong.

You did use to find it sweet and a little funny at times when I just seem to get all my words ******* in a knot.

But I do realise that even tnough I will probably never never see you again in life that in death its never really the end.

I will always remember the good times until then will keep myself strong
and remember those good times
and write them as poems and rhymes.

You always be remembered
God bless you my dear friend.

To whom or what should I pray
The weight of not praying
Is weighing down on me
My parents prayed regularly
God bless their souls
Throughout my entire life
I prayed only a couple of times
Both times to some shining stars
That aligned my heart toward prayer
Through the magic of their twinkle
I once heard someone say
Prayer is best when unanswered
There must be a force behind prayer
Because it exists in every culture
How did it get there remains a mystery
Although some people go wild in prayers
I believe an isolated prayer
Here and there is a healthy thing
Especially, when it is inspired
By someone or something
As in my case by the stars
Needless to say that mine were answered
So why don't I pray more
Well, maybe because I'm not inspired
Or even if I am, I feel shy even guilty
To ask for things when others
Having a hard time fulfilling basic needs
Such as hunger and a roof over head.

Windy winter day,
You walk alone in the white and gray.

I walk four paces far from you,
A ghost in the snow's fair ballet.

A bitter breeze blows from the west,
Interrupted by my wispy form.

Graces your rosy cheek,
And you turn to where the winds came from.

Squinting through the blinding snow,
You stare right at me.

And for a moment I think you know,
That I am here, a winter's ghost.