Life was hard
Growing up
No college fund
Bills unpaid
Gas and lights turned off
Frequently
Hard to do algebra
By candle light
Hard to read books
With shivering hands
Two parents
Worked a job a piece
When they were not arguing
They were silent
Misguided and caught
In the clutches of the
American Dream
Now with me
We dared to mention
The truth of reality

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

The woman to grace my garden would
Have generous hips and thighs,
Long curling hair and a playful stare
A come hither look in her eyes,
A dimple set in a smiling cheek
And lips that would sometimes pout,
She’d move with grace at a steady pace
And her love would knock me out.

We’d meet at noon by the garden seat
In the shade of an apple tree,
With a plate of scones, and jam and cream
That her hands laid out for me,
We’d read a book in that shady nook
As we ate, drank lemonade,
I’d hold her hand in that magic land
And smile, at the game we played.

Then when the day had begun to cool
I’d wrap her up in a shawl,
Our summer days would begin to fade,
We’d still be there in the Fall,
Our talk would cover a thousand things
But we’d marvel most at life,
That fate had brought us together, she’d
Be proud to be called my wife.

My thoughts still stand in that happy land
As I sit alone in this,
And wonder where she may be out there
For a life, so full of bliss,
I sit and wait by the garden gate
For her form to pass on by,
Our eyes may meet in this dismal street
Until then, I’ll sit and sigh.

David Lewis Paget

It's much too late and I should be sleeping
The restlessness of lost souls
Can be heard above the din
Of silence
Where will I find my solice
No arms folded around my weary bones
I give in
Love bewilders me
So I shall beckon for its caress no more

Indestructible

The bills pour in.
I am sick from the pain.
Here it goes…
A hungry white boy grows ,slowly, insane.
Does he give up or give in?
He fights, harder,still.
When the world tries you, enough.
That’s when your endurance begins.
I’ve been in survival mode for so long.
It never let’s up.
So, this older redneck must stay strong.
Fighting for a better life..
To become a legend before I die.
Nights can bring me to my knees as I cry.
I am never beat. I edge,onward yet.
No one can **** the energy of this soul.
Not one thing can I have to drown with tears of regret.
I’ve suffered through physical pain and mental exhaustion
Stains left inside of my head.
However closely with the reaper I’ve danced
I never was the one he dragged out,dead,