#whc
Leaves of varied colours scatter as a promise of tomorrow,
The winter winds may bring chills, ice and bitter sorrow.
The scourge floats through our homes traveling on personal spit
Seeking a new customer and a friendly place to sit.
Masks and gloves cover faces and hide our sad expression
But these thin disguises cannot eliminate our growing depression.
We wait for an easy answer from a pile of helpless failed leaders
Knowing full well they won’t succeed they are all just bottom feeders.
We older souls just sit and wait with anticipated anxiety
While politicians turn to money and cloak the choice in piety
Kiss your treasured love ones and hold them very close
They are our only hope for a love filled vaccine dose.
We are the ones they will sacrifice at every single turn
As the fire continues on in rage we are the ones to burn.
Oct 31, 2020
Oct 31, 2020 at 12:55 AM UTC
I stumble when my tired feet attempt to walk,
I stutter when my ancient tongue tries to talk.
I count the years and fear strikes me cold
I know now that I am afraid of being old.
A wrinkle arrives most every single day
No amount of treatment can make it go away.
Rest does little to appease my constant fear
I think about the other side and shed a quiet tear.
Will I miss my loves, my dreams and such?
Will I still long for someone’s warm loving touch?
Age always works for wine and cheese
But it is a tragic enemy of memories.
Dreams become less important and almost dry
No warmth or promise not even a gentle sigh.
Tread lightly when you wake each morn
Try to recall that special day the one when you were born.
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 12:50 AM UTC
I wander aimlessly around my tiny world, cringing at the pain
I worry about tomorrow’s plan and curse at today’s rain.
Joints of hell and fire make every step a burden,
yet no end in sight and more of the same is certain.
I want to stand as tall as a little man and breathe fire,
not be known as a poet without words or a liar.
I want to battle through the agony and avoid the tears
I need to dig a little deeper to make sure I hide my fears.
Older may be better when discussing the fine wines
But in the body of an old man it’s a world of wrinkles and lines
I recall the early days as many writers do, words flowed like beer
music never stopped and there was always more to hear.
Looking in a morning mirror is a terror in itself
I see the face of a statue that belongs on someone’s shelf.
Where is the smile and all the character that made me young
where is all the harmony for the songs I’ve always sung?
Will this happen to everyone as years slip through their hands
Will all my friends and family watch the sifting sands?
Time will tell I have been told as I wither and fight on
I hope the best of me is coming.... but not gone.
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 4:08 PM UTC
Sadness comes in all flavours and hits harder some days than others.
It makes a sky darker and the sun further away like long lost brothers.
Sadness can make your very soul tremble at the break of dawn
it can make your heart burn when you know that she is gone.
Sadness plays no favorites, it gives no special odds or choice
it jumps up at a moment's notice and screams with a bitter voice.
Sadness is what we try to avoid, what we all try to escape
like a corner mugging or a vicious painful ****
It's out there, lurking in the darkness, calling out our name
pretending that its happiness and trying to be the same.
No warning is sufficient no alarm gives us enough time
there is no chance to skirt the pain or miss the crime.
Sadness is the anxiety that kills our soul and heart
now we wait to see just when the old car rolls in to start.
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 12:16 AM UTC