Sometimes I write how I feel inside
Sometimes I write what's on my mind
Sometimes I write how I try to hide
Sometimes I write what to me makes life unkind
Sometimes I write how I try and try
Sometimes I write how I want to die
Sometimes I write how people think I'm quiet and shy
Sometimes I write about time passing by
Sometimes I write what I'm trying to find

It's  raining.
What  a  lovely  morning
after  all  that  sun.
The  Mallard  ducks  are  out.
I  can  breathe  again..
It  became  too  warm.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

A  flock  of  wild  geese
have  just  flown  by.

Very  pleasing  
to  the  eye.

I'm  in  the  heart
of  nature  here.

Quite  content
with  little  fear.

Mother  nature  works  away
something  new  turns  up  each  day.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK. 2016.

Besides the screams and panic
Besides people becoming maniac
Was the most haunting of sound ever heard
It was more haunting than any word
It was the continuous ringing cellphones of the dead
You could hear in the ring the realization and dread