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As I wake up
could I become
the ghost of me

When will the day
go to flee away

When the night will chase
you back to first base

At times when I'm
not the best and
I don't want to be

When a valley falls
As darkness befalls

When the moon is new
and the war turned askew

At which point
would I become
the ghost of me
"One last story daddy,

then I will sleep"

"Ok my little fairy,

Let this tale settle in deep.

She is an angel in disguise,

who is with you from your first cry,

regardless of your age,

her love for you will never fade,

She holds your hand while the pain is all around,

She wipes away your tears,

She is there to lift you from the ground,

her touch takes away your fears,

From dusk till dawn

when you are with her, your worries are gone,

There is a smile on your face,

It's because she has blessed you with her grace."

"who is she" i say,

"she is the rainbow,

which illuminates the sky after a rainy day,"

Every time I close my eyes,

I remember this story from the start,

"Mom. I love you from the depths of my heart."
among the millions who have never served, or wore uniform,
thought about it, was discouraged, and luck of the lottery,
the only one I’ve ever won, was #359 in the Vietnam draft,
cause my birthday was October 1, and thus, stayed alive

yet, when, every time, hearing Henry V recite his battle speech,
copious weep that I was not there, for the deep need in my soul,
I too well ken, that I ne’er had the opportunity to become one of
a company, a band of brothers, this stripe, missing from my arm

would I have served if called? do not be absurd, the war was idiocy,
but that would not have prevented me from the chance, the luck,
to have been beside men, who would forevermore be mine, be my
very own band brothers...perhaps you think me mad, perverse,
not so, the bonds that formed such, gentle men for ever better...

“From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition
^ Pride in past valor may be best expressed in the St. Crispin’s Day speech from “Henry V” (Act IV, Scene iii), delivered by the young king on the eve of the Battle of Agincourt.

By William Shakespeare (1564-1616)

If we are mark’d to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more, methinks, would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is call’d the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors,
And say ‘Tomorrow is Saint Crispian:’
Then he will strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names
Familiar in his mouth as household words:
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d,
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

Returned to worsened thoughts,
Caught in the spiderwebs of restlessness.
Inchworm caught in the trap.
Presuming its imminent demise.

Toothless dogs of emotional wars fought on the daily,
Screaming in my broken ears,
about how little this all means.

Heat-soaked heart drowning in my anxiety's waste products,
just looking for some direction,
someone to mention my name,
in just a positive way.
perhaps I'm deaf,
so please speak up.

I can't even hear,
my own cries of fear,
so please speak up.
I want to see,
that is what I mean,
is more than nothing.
Souf 4d
Laying here,
I can't believe it's so late.
On my phone,
Once again,
I can't believe this might end.

My life is in pieces,
I'm spiraling,
Attempting to create,
Something inspiring.
But how can I focus when I can barely breathe.
My eyes slowly shutting,
I haven't brushed my teeth.
So I stand up and go.
No sleep for me.

Soon I find that it's 8,
and my day has begun.
It's 5:15 am :) great. I have to go somewhere at 10 am today...
I used to
chase the sun.
I feared the sunset
and the darkness
that would prevail.
I didn't think the horizon
could be more beautiful
until I found my moon
that is you.
Eva May 17
Dandelions carelessly dance in the wind
to the songs of the rustling trees.
What was left of the afternoon sun,
buries itself under the ancient pines.
Insects fill the fields with a mesmerizing lullaby.
Luminous flowers steal the last ray of sunshine,
and hide away into the night.
I hope everyone is doing great in quarintine, stay healthy and stay strong:)
I am still waiting for a day
Where I get a flower bouquet
We drive around top down
On our way downtown

The cars speakers screaming
Leading us to even more dreaming
And I turn my head around
Thinking you must have me confound

Yet here we are
Wishing I could put this in my memory jar
Yearning this moment lasts forever
Though it is not what we endeavour

In a life that just continues to pass
Like we are all trapped in a big hourglass
All those cheerished moments
Are just added up components
Isaac May 20
Seize the speedway.
Try going outdoors.
For at the end of the day
This day was yours.
Written 20 May 2020
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