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Lost in the moment.
Lost in your fantasy.
Everything is a dream.
Nothing is reality.
Temptations run high.
Everything rushes by.
Not a second goes to waste.
No time to slow down and pace.
I'm here in your arms.
Just hold me tight.
Close your eyes.
Lets take in the night.
Everything is perfect.
Everything is right.
This is the moment.
This is the time.
I dream of angels
but they never visit when i awake
And i'd stay up all night
if i thought you would notice
but because you don't
i will sleep all day.
I cloak myself
I cover my face
I hibernate
and wonder why i am still alive
and i sit
and i wait
for an angel will save me
and place me at your feet.
Time passes and I look away at the life I should of lived
Age is not my friend and will always remind me its too late
I stand in the shadow of others living their dreams
And I hate myself for not trying hard enough
I feel like I'm not good enough
Everytime I try , I feel like I'm wasting precious time
But I also feel alive in this time wasted
I hope someday I could brainwash myself
So I would forget the day I realized I wanted to try
Since that day I've never been more unhappy
I gave up on the idea that you would take care
of this dream
I havent given up on you yet because I'm scared
Im afraid of you
Kiss her down her spine
Sighs of frustration
Bare hips sway beneath white sheets

I am the cartographer
Mapping her desire
As my pillows were soaked by my pathetic tears
And my chest heaved of desperation,
He worked.

As I walked around with a blank look on my face
And people asked questions
He didn't know.

As I sit here and try to read to forget his worthless existence
And my heart still stupidly aching,
He is home with his wife.
Don't know when I wrote this but there ya go
The other afternoon I got a message
From a friend about my latest musing
He said he didn't understand the poem
And in fact, it was confusing
He told me how he'd read some others
And they made no sense at all
And he said, he'd fix my problem
And he gave me a number to call
As one who likes a challenge
And not one to turn away
I phoned the gifted number
That's why I'm here today

"Welcome to the Group Encounter
It's group therapy for beginners
Your problems we will fix
And will help make you all winners"
At least that's what the sign said
I felt like I was being led to slaughter
But, I told my friend that I would go
And if I say yes....I gotta!!
The room was bright and cheerful
No silly signs upon the walls
I saw nothing else of much importance
There were no chairs, just *****
Eight people came, we took attendance
Which I found funny, since no one knew
Our real names, or our problems
I stood behind a ball of blue
The leader was a man...a doctor
He said it was good to see us all
I smiled back, and gave a greeting
I remembered the silly sign out in the hall
He informed the group that at this meeting
We didn't have to say a word
I thought that wouldn't help me with my problem
But I might learn from what I heard
"My name is Bill, and I'm an addict
came a voice so soft and meek
I like ******* and thighs and *******"
"Bill, you say that every week"
For those of you new to our meeting
Bills a butcher, not a freak
He always says this as his welcome
I made a note...Bill's help..don't seek!!
"I am Julie, I'm an addict
I drink all day and through the night"
Now, we're talking..I was thinking
Here is someone who's not right
"Hello Julie"....we all answered
I was anxious for her tales of *****
But, what a downer was old Julie
She just drank milk, her tale's a ruse
Julie really didn't drink much
She just needed to get out
Her mother thought she was a loner
She's sit around the house and pout
Bill the butcher and our lactaid milkmaid
really made me wish I'd not
phoned the number from my buddy
Some magic beans...that's what I'd bought
I stood and looked upon the faces
I'll make up something for their ears
I stood and said "My name is Shecky"
"and what I'll say, will bring you tears"
"I'm an addict, a man of knowledge"
"I have to know what makes things tick"
"I know this meeting's for beginners"
"But, I am here because I'm sick"
I told them that I liked dissection
Like Bill the butcher, only more
I described a surgical procedure
And two folks ran right out the door
I smirked a bit, my act was working
I had them wrapped, intent and deep
Now into their heads, I would start working
And in I'd run, I would not creep
More tales of blood and carnage
Sent two more people on their way
The lactaid milkmaid made her exit
I thought for sure, she'd be one to stay
I talked for oh, say forty minutes
The doctor, stood, his mouth was wide
The others too, sat gobs wide open
I think a small dog would fit inside
The doctor said, our time was over
He'd pulled me over for a chat
"I think you need more than you'll get here"
"Did you really do that to a cat?"
I just grinned, I'd had some fun here
I'd not return, that much I knew
The night was not a total loss
On my exit, Bill said I could be a butcher too!!
I called my friend when I got home
I told him of the night of fun
He listened close to what I told him
And he laughed loud, at what I'd done
He told me he had learned his lesson
And my meetings tale was most amusing
From now on, he'd not dissect
And not look deep into my musings
I said my words were there to look at
To confuse your mind is not my task
But, if you like what you have read...please
click "like" or comment....that's all I ask.
The little boy
Growing into his own shoes,
His very own big boy pants too!
He has premature features that
remind me of someone... someone...
But who?
A sincere childish smile with
Protruding teeth that melts any passerby
What about his popping belly?
To rub,
To feel during his hugs,
To love love love!
It really does remind me of someone...
But let me tell you about his nails
How they always seem to be just too long
Or the way he blushes when he's caught singing a song
Silly little boy with nails too long,
soft fingers, and growing hands
He might tuck them in his pants
The way Daddy does
Girl crushes and science tests and soon
Those big boy pants will walk him out to middle school
His charming retainer lisp will soon fade away
And remind me more of Dad everyday
They share a name
My dad's pride and joy
He's his mold, his little boy
The way he reads, even holds his posture
And all the little things just like his father
For my 9-year-old brother after observing him and my dad eat their breakfast exactly alike; them completely oblivious.
I don’t mind.
(but I do)

I haven’t thought about it since I heard it escape your lips.
(It’s been on replay)

Not at all.
(every minute)

It doesn’t bother me.
(can’t forget it)

I’m fine.
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