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The moon was brilliant
Last night
And yet...
I caught you
Staring
At me
Jealous moon
Where are those cemeteries filled with centurions?
where are the legions we lost?

Only in America?

If we found them today
CSI would be all over it
they'd spirit them away
and put them on display
at the Smithsonian

Good luck is what I say
from the Egyptian rooms
at the
British Museum

Then they'll charge all the people
a dollar and a half just to see 'em
or was that for a big yellow taxi ride?

If you know you know and if you don't
know you're none the wiser
All I want
Is more verses
In this room
That I can read to you
I may be simple words
But if you
Write me some music
And let me translate them
With my voice
Then I will show you
They are simply
Not just
Words
Anymore
Artistry of song writing and singing is such a gift. At least I can enjoy listening.
I love that you
Treat me like a
Library book
Checking me out
All the time
I ask him "what are you staring at?"  And he just smiles
 Jun 21 Sally A Bayan
anne
There are different reasons why you write.
You write because...
...you're happy?
you're sad?
you're delighted?
you're mourning?
keeping a secret?
But whichever reason you have,
you still write what's inside.
What other people can't see,
can't decipher beneath the words you speak,
can't understand the emotions flowing
through the sentences you can't speak out loud.
You write, pouring the feelings you can't let out,
you write. using the words you once thought can't explain what you feel.
You write, thinking that someone out there can finally discern what you're hiding inside.
I'm writing this because I don't have any topic to write. I just feel like I need to write something tonight. I'm missing someone though, and I'm overthinking again. Big sigh
"It feels so scary getting old"
Seems true.
It makes me weep to see the world
Without you.
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