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The cold wind of time
Blowing upon my pages
Hurrys me along
Haiku
early this year
gentle as calm ocean waters
   lapping along a weir
thumb and fore finger
   of right hand would peal back,

   (via diagonally flippant motion
   asper calendar
   representing progression of time)
   gets flipped over to veer
in one direction (linear)

revealing the next month at lightspeed
   vis a vis tempus fugit galloping tear
thy head immediately lost hirsute thickness,
   i starkly share

male or female pattern baldness
   extant along
   Harris genealogical trunk line rare
yet divulging distress
   about limp decreasing strands
   sends shivers along spine,

   gloomy feeling linkedin
   with old fashioned meaning of queer
and perchance tis foolhardy
   reeding this Samson night issue must ap pear

tis unstoppable inching closer toward
   as mortality gets near
youthful robustness fades
   replaced by senescence mere
   really ambling along tragicomic stream,
   one evinces gargoyles mockingly leer
loosing sleep and kept raggedly awake
   in conjunction dreams fraught
   with frightful haunting monsters jeer
ring sound reverberating hair
splitting decibel jamming primary cranial gear

aye tell mice elf nothing to fear...
yet maximizing this plight with poem 'ere
Yukon also temporarily part
   blond, brown, gold, et cetera locks mud dear.
early this year
gentle as calm ocean waters
   gently lapping along a weir
thumb and fore finger
   of right hand would peal back,

   (via diagonally flippant motion
   asper calendar
   representing progression of time)
   gets flipped over to veer
in one direction (linear)

revealing the next month at lightspeed
   vis a vis tempus fugit galloping tear
thy head immediately lost hirsute thickness,
   i starkly share

male or female pattern baldness
    extant along
   Harris genealogical trunk line rare
yet divulging distress
   about limp decreasing strands
   sends shivers along spine,

   gloomy feeling linkedin
   with old fashioned meaning of queer
and perchance tis foolhardy
   as reeding this Samson night issue must ap pear

tis unstoppable inching closer toward
   as mortality gets near
youthful robustness fades
   replaced by senescence mere
   really ambling along tragicomic stream,

   one evinces gargoyles mockingly leer
loosing sleep and kept raggedly awake
   in conjunction dreams fraught
   with frightful haunting monsters jeer
ring sound reverberating hair
splitting decibel jamming cranial gear

aye tell mice elf nothing to fear...
yet maximizing this plight with poem 'ere
Yukon also temporarily part
   blond, brown, gold, et cetera locks mud dear.
I tried
I really did

Telling her i love her without saying it
Its much harder than it seems

Reeding between the lines
Seems to hard
Maybe its too obvious

I tried
**I really did
Why cant i just say it? I dont want it to be weird though. Im glad nobody can reed this. Except for some friends. Or maybe its the point of writing it here.

— The End —