This poem is number 600
Of poems I have "published" on the Web.
My steady enthusiasm for writing
Poetry hasn't started to ebb.

That's six hundred since the spring
Of the year twenty fourteen. Okay,
I know I sound like a chatterbox,
But I thought I had a lot to say.

The process is electrifying:
It happens after I immerse
Myself in an ocean of thoughts and feelings
And out pop my comments in verse.

There's always something to write about--
Something to question, discuss or explore.
Some might say, "Enough! Enough!"
While others say, "Give me more!"

I've always admired a great poet
With a facile tongue and a flowing pen.
I'll never be a Shakespeare or Milton,
A Wordsworth, Keats, or Shelley, but then

That's not important. I'll still write poems.
If one of them strikes a chord that will be
Nice; but if a poem falls flat,
All I can say is, "C'est la vie!"

If there is a lull in my writing,
Do not fret, for goodness' sake.
I probably haven't kicked the bucket;
I'm probably just taking a break.

-by Bob B (9-5-17)

My tears maybe shallow, but at least I try
To catch them all, or until they dry
My mind is fuzzy, I see time fly
But there are just times that I can't help but cry.

It's really so odd how everything changes
From bestfriends to enemies, maybe even strangers
How heartbreaking to look, but more so to feel
At the end you'll just stop, hoping, wishing that it isn't real.

I told you I didn't care, that it was no big deal
But **** did it hurt, when I thought it was real
Maybe I really did like you, from the very beginning
I just didn't want to say that you consumed my whole being.

You were my best friend, my private confider
I gave you my trust, but I guess you didn't care
Girls are really so complicated, it just had to be embraced
I thought we were happy, but you just said otherwise, by walking away

Something isn't right
I can taste it on your lips
Feel the tremor through my fingers
Resting on your hips

You are scared of me
Scared what I can do
Someone else has hurt you
Now you're scared I'll hurt you too

When I arrived to her apartment
I began to anxiously knock on the door

But nobody answered?

I noticed that all the lights were on,
But still,
No answer?

I then decided to wait a couple minutes
Assuming that she was probably just in the bathroom, still getting ready

But my heart was racing fast
And my thoughts begun to get unsteady

My paranoia started to get the best of me
And I thought what if she played me?

What if this wasn't even her residence?
How could she have betrayed me?

I then snapped out of it
And decided to call her phone

I called her three times in a row
I was now afraid of the unknown

I started to count my loss
And attempted to leave
But I made a promise to come
Because this girl was filled with grieve

How could I just give up and leave?
So i continued to proceed

I opened up her door
Because it was unlocked
I carefully entered the door
Going through unblocked

I didn't hear anything
Or see anyone in the living room?
So I made my way to the bedroom

She wasn't in there either
So I began to panic
I didn't know what to do
I quickly began to turn frantic

I thought that I'd check the bathroom
To search a little more
I know that this was a form of home invasion
But my human nature told me to explore

When I made my way to the bathroom door,
My heart slowly started to bang much more,
I slowly turned the ***,
And there she was,
Face flat, lying down on the bathroom floor.....