"baldness" poems
I was acquainted with a raucous older man while I was still young and as impressionable as plaster-of-paris
Malleable as I was
He left a mark
And now
I watch you wearing baldness with classy elegance
and donning beards with ease, easy on my eyes
Can we fly through space safely?
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 2:05 AM UTC
Beat-Up Old Car
Vastly under-appreciated possession
In dull blue, a MK1, no less, with original rust
Inside lingering scents of Exchange and Mart
top-notes of WD-40 and miscellaneous mix tapes
A car like this gets into your life
in lumpy knuckle-barking unsubtle ways,
stays there in subtle ones
That long drive back to Yorkshire
in the quintessential exemplar
Clutch cable snaps.
****** and Crap.
Hardly helpful but can be accommodated
with enough thought
rough though it is
on starter motor
and nerves whenever
anticipatory powers inadequate
and we are forced
to a complete red-light stop
Brakes dodgier, exhaust noisier
than ideal or legal
Gender-ambiguous
elderly tyres flirt outrageously with slick tarmac
Showing their canvas underwear
and male-pattern baldness
Keeping this unstable, unsafe, unreliable
ultimately essential lump of metal
moving and on the road
is a fine art
Engaging, fluid and intense art;
The Clash and The Specials
Costello and The Cure in support
A distraction then
getting hauled over by plod
somewhere near Bury St. Edmunds
Thatcher's boys.
Tax? MoT? Insurance? ID?
No real interest shown
Any passengers in the back?
Clearly no. Pickets?
Pickets? What?
Please open the boot sir... Oh.
On your way lad. Drive carefully
I was, officer, I was
More than you will ever know
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 9:52 AM UTC
Dear Poet Friends, the 4th of July is celebrated as American
Independence Day. But for me it is a day of special significance since it is my contemporary & Texan poet friend Jon Stevens’ BIRTHDAY! We were both born in the same year 1943! Kindly join up to wish John ‘A Very Happy Birth Day’ with me! Today I dedicate an old poem of mine to John, titled - ‘’Time the Master Craftsman’’ composed way back in 2007 and posted on ‘Poenhunter.com’. Hope John and my Readers will like it! Thanks, - Raj, New Delhi.
TIME THE MASTER CRAFTSMAN!
TIME the master craftsman first lets you grow.
For you are his ‘marble slab’ on which his work will show!
He silently chips away, his chisel makes no noise.
For he is a master of stealth, and woks with elegant poise.
We all take him for granted as time passes by.
Spring gives way to Summer, as Autumn draws nigh.
Then suddenly one day the mirror shows a face.
The wrinkles are etched all over, and spread across
your face.
With deep furrows on your forehead, even a shiny
baldness shows.
The sculptor has done his work both steady and slow!
Your eyes get set deeper, with blotches on your skin.
Your face begins to shrink, with a toothless child-like grin.
Time the master craftsman has now perfected his art.
He remains surrounded by other slabs for his chipping
work to start!
-By Raj Nandy
04 July 2016
A VERY HAPPY BIRTH DAY TO JOHN STEVENS OF TEXAS &
WISHING HIM BEST OF HEALTH.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 10:33 AM UTC
In schooldays my aim was terribly perfect
add to that an attitude unfair
a soft teacher was an easy found target
not one bald head was allowed to be spared.
The moment the poor man turned to blackboard
his baldness shined as a gaming site
the sleeping devil woke up and deep roared
dispatched were chalks on windborne flight.
Only a few did land on wrong place
but found mostly their rightful targets
and bore no qualm the thrower's face
when cheered by the fellow classmates.
As the victim turned with ire's full steam
nursing stings that came with good force
we in the gang were such an honest team
never revealed it came from what source.
It went on smooth till luck failed one day
has to end all games one once starts
a traitor midst us the secret gave away
memory of the thrashing badly hurts.
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 11:30 AM UTC
Scanning from the ground upward over my torso
Reveals an disturbing inventory of dysfunction
brachymetatarsia, in both feet!
Unequal leg length
Reconditioned knees
Atrophied right quadriceps
Hernia Scar
L4 & L5 Vertebrae way too chummy
Are these *******
Are these jowls?
Gum recession
Moderate gastro intestinal reflux
Three diopter challenge in both eyes
Dermatochelassis, left and right
Scintillating scotoma
Male pattern baldness – rear solar panel developing.
And yet when asked
I reply, Oh, I’m fine! I’m fine.
And you, and you, still love me.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 12:53 AM UTC
**Like the merchant who claimed to have a spear that could penetrate anything
And a shield that nothing could penetrate
This is a paradox, and it will be loved by many
For the same reasons that many hate
As the wise young man with dreadlocks
Grows older and wiser... though baldness is his fate
He knows when to slow his pace, where haste would make him late
In due time his meekness would pay off
And they will say "His insignificance made him great."
Fly on the wall... unseen to all
Watching and laying in wait
In his principles he remains grounded, which allows him to levitate
Above the chaos
And find sanity in madness
Sanity... to calculate
To make choices, from experience of indecision
Without taking aim, to hit his target with utmost precision
A rational mind, complimented by gut feeling
Result oriented, but if they found out his method
It would probably leave them perplexed, like an honest man caught stealing.**
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 4:19 AM UTC
I see you in the Fall
The red leaves whipping in the wind like your hair flowing behind you.
The chaotic movement connect to something
strong
sturdy
safe.
I see you in the fall.
The wind screaming in my ear
like you when the schizophrenia kicked in
terrifying
but beautiful
in a broken sort of way.
I see you in the fall.
Like the flowers that bend towards the slightest glimmer of sunlight
just as you would hold onto any ray of hope that came your way
like it was the last time you'd see it
I see you in the fall
as the trees show their branches
it leaves falling like your hair did
Beautiful
despite it's baldness
I saw you in the fall.
But now it's winter and like the leaves on the trees
You are gone.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
You are my soul mate, there are many like us
But this one is ours, My soul mate is my best friend she is my life
Without me my soul mate I she useless without her I am useless
I will treat my soul mate right, I will be your shelter your armor your strength
I will be your sword your protector your shield
I will learn your weaknesses your strength your dreams your desires and your fears
I will ever guard you against the ravages and trials of this world I will
We will become part of each other, we will
I will slay every dragon I will clear every obstacle
I will pick you up when you fall, take care of you when you fall ill
I will be your strength when you are weak
When you cannot continue I will carry you
When you are sick I will care for you
When you cry I will whipe away the tears
I will sacrifice all to have you at peace
When our children are hurt I will heal them
I will be strong enough for the both of us
May you not want while I am with you
When there is work to be done I will do it
I will be the wind beneath your wings
I will be at your back every step you take
I will miss you when you are afar
You will be in my heart forever and always
We will give each other names which we only call each other
We will know each other through body and soul
I will know your wants needs dreams and desires
I will be the man of your dreams
I will give you all your heart desires and needs
I will give my all and ask for nothing in return but your love
My love is unconditional
Through sorrow and desease
Through wrinkles and baldness
My love will never end even after breathe lives my body
I will not let you give up on yourself even when you feel like you cannot continue
Our lives will be entwined and ever seamless
There is nothing we together cannot accomplish
We were destined
Our lives are written in the stars
We will be together one day
And that day will be the beginning of our beautiful lives together
God has brought us together and nothing can break us
Theses things I promise to you and to you alone for all time
Before God I swear this creed my soul mate and I are the masters of our future we are the perfect match we are opposites we complete each other, So be it for the rest of our days until eternity embraces us and there is no one else but us.
Nov 12, 2010
Nov 12, 2010 at 7:27 AM UTC
I'm the real Chuck Bass
I am Nigel Barker
****
Noted
Fashion Photographer.
i engulf all men, women and children with my succulent odour
especially when i use the flames of the baldinator.
it makes me bolder... and balder
Baldness is my strength, chutzpah, and truth.
Smize all you like Tyra
I will always come out on top.
I have
the passion,
the power,
the Porsche.
model ******* work for this, for me.
My scalp illuminates the night
leading me up and along the path of the nigh.
Serena van der Woodsen your Pantene waves of glory
will fall victim to my patent shine
now let me beam fiercely
PERFECTION
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 8:20 PM UTC
Holy Crap,
They Sold My Name!
No big deal, your name, your email, bought n' sold daily,
Like a baseball card, your picture and vital stats are on the internet,
Your credit card in the fine print tells you they love you much,
But the data they collect, might get credited to such and such.
You're fair game if your sign up for anything.
Now I know I am getting on in years,
Tho spry rhymes with die, I flatly deny
Any notion that
My great beyond is just around the corner!
But Holy Crap,
They Sold My Name!
Got a color brochure
Suggesting that when my travels are over,
A nice place to rest my head might be
St. Michael's Cemetery.
St. Michael's Cemetery
7202 Astoria Blvd, East Elmhurst
(718) 278-3240
Friday hours 7:00 am–5:00 pm
In case you want to check it out too...
Tho I live not in the Borough of Queens County,
My zip code but a hop, skip and jump away,
The cemetery adjacent to the Grand Central Parkway
Which is actually quite thoughtful of
The mass marketer who dreamed up this scheme
(And got paid a plentiful amount of bounty).
My kids could wave as they drive by,
On the way to LaGuardia or JFK, (airports)
And say, guilt free, they visit me regularly!
Sadly, their plot foiled,
I will be buried in
New Jersey soil,
Near to my pop, who liked the
Wide open spaces of suburbia
And shopping on Route 4,
Where the selection is great
And there is no sales tax.
But Holy Crap,
They Sold My Name,
And I am now target marketed,
Niched, pretty soon the boys from AARP
Will come calling, reminding me of the gap
Tween Medicare and the poor house!
Ok ok, grow up you say, tho your hair is full,
And not even a hint of baldness shines forth,
Nonetheless, its color is zebra striped gray,
And when someone says they got my back,
I think, please, please take it and keep it....
Oh yeah,
Dear St. Mikes
You might ask for some of your money back,
Cause this sily scribe is a member of the tribe,
Some call "those ***** (hint: it rhymes with Mikes),"
It starts with K and ends in yikes!
But thanks for thinking of me anyway.
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 5:32 PM UTC
I saw an old blue jay today
unashamed of his baldness.
His beautiful crown reduced
to wispy sprouts of gray,
every which way
like a patient after chemo.
*Beauty cannot exist
without suffering*
I saw our rabbit’s kits yesterday,
they looked like little piglets
nestled in her nest of fur and hay,
plump and tender bodies,
tempting feasts for
creatures of the night.
*Peace cannot exist
without fear*
I saw a hummingbird this morning
and heard her vibrating chirp.
Cautious yet eager she
bobbed and dipped for sustenance
a thousand miles from home
like a prisoner of war.
*Home cannot exist
without longing*
I see an orangey moon tonight
pierced across the breast by clouds,
in halves instead of whole.
A symbol of the way things are,
a broken world that
few take time to notice.
*Consciousness cannot exist
without ignorance*
I looked in your eyes just now
and saw love.
Sickness, disease, danger and fear,
loneliness, loss and uncertainty
is, was, and forever will be
washed away in their blue,
at least for me.
*Certainty cannot exist
without love*
Of this I am certain
Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 4:34 PM UTC
OK, I can no longer say
I’ve got a receding hairline
and sure everyone can see
the plain fact, the bald fact -
but there are pleasures, you know
I’ve saved heaps on hair gel
and shampoos and conditioners
(enough I think
to fund my retirement)
and I can actually feel the cool air
(no one can call me hot-headed)
and the great thing now
is everyone says with all honesty
I’m **** as Sean Connery
(what they actually think
or say behind my back
is none of my business)
but the best blessing of all
is I never need to look for my comb
(I confess I was always misplacing it)
and so I don’t need to reach for my wife’s comb
and so she lies as still as a cat
and she doesn’t need to roar
like a lioness
first thing in the morning:
Don’t you dare touch my comb!
Ah, the blessings that linger
like so many halos
in eminent baldness
Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 3:55 PM UTC
Had I not shaved my head
My hair would grow wildly
Directionless, as the wind blows
On wintry days, battering trees
Pushing branches to and fro
Without symmetry or sympathy,
I would look boyish from afar
A little disconcerting, my face
Framed with greying beard
A little desperate to hold onto
The passing years as my youth
Recedes into male pattern baldness,
(The genes don't lie), it would be
An extension of my personality
Unruly, childish, carefree, immature
This is how I could express myself
Had I not shaved my head
Wanting to keep it all inside.
Jun 23, 2019
Jun 23, 2019 at 10:04 AM UTC
For every emotion songs have already been written:
poetries and sonnets,
angry beats and ****** ballads.
My more positive, happier self is an extra-terrestrial being
from galaxies far away:
No cutting off fins from sharks. Unlike lizards’ tails
fins don’t grow back.
Love. Respect.
No ceramic idols lining the windows
their empty gazes crawling up your spine.
No empty promises. No magic cures for baldness.
Phones on mute during class. Eat sensibly.
Take a breather – life is not a race
to the finish line. Have cleaner washrooms.
Less unwanted criticisms. Less trance.
Love thy country.
Pin-striped shorts
from M&S; Stronger will.
No slitting wrists or overdoses. Suspend disbelief.
No secret candy stashes. Do your laundry without being told.
Omit racism, misanthropy. Wilted flowers by the windowsill.
No secret phone calls in the middle of the night.
Who are you afraid of? Almost and nearly don’t count.
Come home.
Forgive favorite band for disappointing album.
Be kinder to puppies.
Brood, not rant. Skulk, not stalk.
Get my name right.
Don’t drink and drive.
There are no gays, no lesbians, only
people with feelings.
Fight, not flight.
Have more 24-hour pizza places.
Avoid politicians, traitors, lawyers.
No throwing around words like vociferance,
vociferate, vociferous.
Accept fate – don’t be a martyr;
One day everything fades
so hold on to
all your post-it memory
until every star
turns to dust.
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 6:03 AM UTC
Dear pops
1) You died and will never get to see your grandchildren. I always used to tell you if you didn't eat better you wouldn't get to see them. I was right
2) I told you if you didn't eat better you would get diabetes. In the end they cut out your pancreas and I became right
3) I always thought hospitals were cool. Thanks to you I can't bear thinking of one
4) Why did you never say you were proud of me?
5)Why did you never say you were proud of me?
6) Why did you never say you were proud of me?
7) Never. Not once
8) Were you proud of me?
9) Why was it always about my looks?
10) Why was I always annoying to you? *edit - why did you always find me annoying?
11) Did I matter?
12) Did you think I was smart?
13) Did you think I would become something?
14) Did you think I was a stupid girl who would outgrow her rebelliousness
15) It's been 17 years and I haven't
16) Did you think I was smart?
17) You never thought anything I did mattered
18) You always mocked me, made fun of me, never listened to what I had to say
19) You thought I was rude when I wasn't
20) You labelled me all the time
21) There's a small part of me that's glad you died because now I can love a girl more easily. Now I can love a boy of a different race more easily. Now I can speak to my mother more easily
22) Did you love me? It didn't seem so
23) I always thought my life would change if I lost someone I loved. It didn't ,not much
24) I'm always looking for older men to tell me I'm intelligent. Your best friend. My uncle. My teacher.
25) Guess why
26) I'm damaged. I was damaged before you died and a large part of why is you
27) The boys and I always said you reminded us of Homer Simpson because of your gut and baldness and mild foolishness. In the end you were so ravaged by jaundice you were as yellow as him. I will never watch The Simpsons again
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 2:04 PM UTC
The Unbearable Winter’s mist
The winter’s mist,
peculiar,
the sky augurs
blue and sun mellow,
but clouded vision
begets and besets,
my own and owned
melancholy vision is
a consequential
snake like blurry speckled band,
of my own drawing,
covering my eyes,
when I read Márai‘s
wit, write, legal writ,
but with my corrected
add
of the
un
and my own self assigned
grade is a bright red
F
eye of the beholder
Life becomes unbearable
*”when one has come to
terms with who one is,
both in one's own eyes
and in the eyes of the world.
We all of us must come to terms
with what and who we are, and
recognize that this wisdom is not
going to earn us any praise, that
life is not going to pin a medal on
us for recognizing and enduring
our own vanity or egoism or
baldness or our potbelly. No, the
secret is that there's no reward
and we have to endure our characters
and our natures as best we can, because
no amount of experience or insight is
going to rectify our deficiencies, our
self-regard, or our cupidity. We have
to learn that our desires do not find
any real echo in the world. We have
to accept that the people we love
do not love us, or not in the way
we hope. We have to accept betrayal
and disloyalty, and, hardest of all,
that someone is finer
than we are in
character or intelligence.”*
Sándor Márai
Jan 10, 2024
Jan 10, 2024 at 2:36 PM UTC
I saw him... Ripping the posters of hope to the ground
The bear stuffed. Cardboard box a home he never dreamt of
An abandoned minefield of metal gongs.....still clanging
With life encircled on its rim, clearly in full erosion
One eye had begun to fall, clinging on by a theatrical thread
A small hole had appeared, the left ear on hard times
He looked sad...his 'Bravo' days departed, kicked like an
Old tin can scattering nailed organs, strewn carelessly
The haphazards hurt the most; those that landed head first
They burrowed into the soft fur, grizzling through
Lack of gripe water to anaesthetise the first cut
Fur ***** were out of stock, cleaned right off the shelves
The posters painted with high definition, torn with sad
Hand shakes. Lined up ******* into fists, like used tissues
Their eye level aim skimmed the parcelled plots and slotted
Into basket cases, breathing in ***** dumpsters before their due date
Shrugging it off didn't work, shouldered earrings...stuck in rutted
Situ for too long. You came between them and the tombs of truth
Caused a nasty virus to accelerate. Baldness stole the soft
Funishings from your limbs in between the stuffing years
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 4:16 PM UTC
Isn't SPAM a pain in the rear?
NOT the canned Spam that you can eat;
I mean the spam in your email mailbox.
It's so annoying and so indiscreet.
"Mark as Spam" sometimes works,
But obnoxious messages still get through.
It seems as though you always have tons
Of unwanted email staring at you.
Have you seen "Six Months to Skinny"
Or the "One-Pound-a-Day Diet"?
There's always "Hi, you're going to love this"
Or "Want a good time?" That one's a riot.
What about "Help with Alcohol,"
"Penny Stock Tips," or "Erectile Dysfunction"?
Or "Toenail Fungus"? Yikes! Please spare me.
They send out this nonsense with no compunction!
Breast augmentation? That I don't want.
Baldness cures? Well, if I let it
Be a problem and needed some snake oil,
I know exactly where to get it.
I often get messages dealing with meds.
Those boring messages always fall flat.
And then there's "Male Enhancement Madness."
No thanks; I will pass on that.
Have you received the message that goes
Something like "Hi, my name is Pam"?
The one that I find really hilarious
Is the one that reads, "This is not spam!"
Despite precautions, when checking your email,
You're bound to find SPAM--lying in wait.
I have to say that I much prefer it
Not in my mailbox, but instead on my plate.
- by Bob B
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 9:08 AM UTC
Go ahead take a good look.
Go on breathe it in.
I have a gap in my two front teeth.
Still get the occasional acne
And male pattern baldness
Well I need that like a real dad.
Really I don't.
Look at my finger nails.
I barely have them.
It's called stress, maybe anxiety.
We put labels on juice.
Why not emotion?
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 3:03 AM UTC
You are twenty days late
In your response
Who do you think you are?
That I’d jump at your thumbspeak?
It was a passing thing
Thinking about you now
With your flecked baldness
Your Cheshire cat teeth
Glowing against
Your ***** black skin
Your disease
A foul smell
In the arid air
The long stretch
Of your tawny arms
That once carried
The weight
Of your insecurities
Your sweaty palms
Like milk
The sweat
In your back
Your unpunctuated sentences
And your shallow joys…
You are twenty days late
But you’ve lost me
On the fourth day
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 11:45 PM UTC
It pains me to say that my ***** is only half an inch long.
It's extremely embarrassing because I have a tiny *******
I never use urinals while out in public, I only use stalls.
I can not let other men know that my ***** is so small.
I got so mad at my ex-wife that I wanted to beat her.
She was going to tell my friends and co-workers about my tiny peter.
I said if she exposed me, I'd expose her baldness and that she wears a wig.
My ex-wife had our marriage annulled because my wiener isn't very big.
Women say that ***** size isn't important to them but it's more important than they admit.
A blind date started making fun of my tiny wiener so I started making fun of her tiny ****
When it comes to being successful with women, I don't have a chance.
If you have a small **** don't let anybody see it, keep it in your pants.
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 8:40 PM UTC
I glaze a look at the street, from
our apartment window.
You are coming slowly, teetering
one leg in front other, with back slightly hunched forward,
burdened with sleepless nights and yesterday’s undones.
Vibrant spirit once you had is lost, tossed among crowded
train wagons, useless meetings and broken deadlines.
One vein in the left corner of your forehead, swells, pulses in the rhythm
of your dark, fuddled thoughts as unremitting, sprouting baldness
reflects evening lights.
Still, I smile,
for you are here, with me in all this madness
we call life, half diced with wants and haunts that braid
every tomorrow we greet together.
I would like to put you in a different frame, picture of
nor “Yeses” nor “Nos”,
just us, being us, each moment celebrating
without lamenting for what “ifs” or “shoulds” and “coulds”.
Still, I smile,
as I watch you battle your restless leg syndrome,
wrestling to sooth demanding expectations,
lifted bars for higher remunerations, in constant marathon
of best comparison,
for you care, you dare.
I take your hand with eyes of approval,
life’s ****** and gigolette,
ready to play each day’s illusive roulette.
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 5:23 AM UTC
How much was enough
As her daily breaths
Were strains
Each movement
Cautiously taken
In order to avoid pain
With every day
Restricting more and more
Her body retreating
Shrinking into
A thin skin creature
Few ever knew
Spirit crumbling
In waiting
Leaving almost baldness
Goblinesque features
Till the end
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
Look at Prince Charles' profile
see the high forehead and receding baldness
the jutting nose, a strong noble Grecian look
take a look at Prince William, same features
his is even more defined
so our plebs on the Clapham omnibus
declares quite seriously that
these lovely royal profiles resembles a horse
neigh, neigh do not scold the plebs
they see only what the lower plebs brains sees
and perhaps
because Royals have a strong historical link with Horses
a royal maiden had at one time taken a horse to bed
Come to think of it, Catherine The Great
Empress of Russia
reportedly did take a horse for a bit of jiggery porky
so maybe there's a bit of equine bloodline in all royal lineages
after-all the horse is considered a handsome proud and noble beast
So I embrace my horse ancestry and can also confirm
that I am packed as a horse in the lower region as well....
Any clean and disease-free female wanting a ride is welcomed
please contact me at Buck house and bring a big hat along
NO, not for my head...you silly twit......
May 26, 2019
May 26, 2019 at 8:45 PM UTC
Interesting that we older men now flag our own decline
Composted in this shameful ruse enacted over time.
We point to prime examples of our keynote men of age
De Niro, Keitel, Clooney, Hurt…all class acts, on the stage.
Take Clarkson, Rush, O’Toole and Bean…they brim like vintage wine,
Having come to terms with baldness and the sagging paunch decline.
Like them, we’ve learned the lesson of absurdity of life,
Where the trick to aged contentedness, is to pacify the wife.
An awareness of fragility in that pending death is near,
Is offset by the peace of mind of subdued *** and beer.
We say, to Hell with gradual fade of hairline, health and wealth
When a crystal glass of single malt can smooth it all by stealth.
So quell the racing, thudding heart, lean back in wisdom’s shine,
Secure in that with shaky hand…We can still quaff vintage wine.
And should the youth lose patience with a hesitancy there
We can usually still their arrogance with a knowing senior stare,
And should there be a question of a competency still?
Remind them their tomorrow too.. is running fast downhill.
Don’t sweat it with the walker, for it all arrives too soon
And sweetly on the wireless there was Perry Como’s croon,
Take comfort in the fact that soon they’ll put us out to grass
When oblivion comes creeping in Altzheimers foggy clasp.
To tabulate the good and bad within this lifetime’s span
Leaves the negatives predominant, should truth reveal her hand,
It becomes a bit obsessive when the mind’s allowed to dwell
For around the corner, probably, …. is a one way trip to Hell.
M.
Pukehana Paradise
Auckland NZ
May 7 2014
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC