Sitting, thinking
kept to myself
sitting, seething
all to myself
sitting, rotting
just myself
pariah, outcast
from all but myself

She stole my crayons
now i color in gray
life shades in colors of one
vibrant no more

She stole my crayons
to color her life bright
her pictures are grand
vibrant til the end

sing to me softly of your love
without uttering a sound
whisper to me in the night
when I've captured your breath
tell me you love me
with every shudder and glance
settle slowly into my arms
and weave your tales of love
just for me
just for tonight

the sweet smell of sunshine
fell down on me
the flowers
petal soft and radiant
the rain passed
electrifying the air
the green lawn blazing
in brilliant comfort

and i lay rotting
six feet down
worm eaten and
maggot hell

who'll cast the spell
and wake me
from the grave
who'll sing a lullaby
to wake the dead
who'll cast their charms
to bring back my life

What do you do
When the fairy tale ends
and you find
you've lost a friend
There is no happily ever after
not...
in the end

Look forward to the year not realized
and see in it the possible
Search back in the year experienced
and find in it the beauty
Look now, at this time
this moment in life
And know that your dreams
though not realized
can still be experienced


I wrote this in my wife's birthday card today

With quiet resignation
he goes about his day
neither a voice to be heard
nor a force to be reckoned with
The sparkle of his children's eyes
add light to the path he's on
A path neither understood
nor direction known
He walks each day
hoping for some signpost
and awaiting the dawn