evanescence…

shadows that make bumps in the night

the details
of
my existence
are
fading
some
replaced
with
deliberate
confusion
by
others
an attempt
to
justify
their
fading existence
details
they clearly recall
but
wish not
to
claim
much easier
to
attribute
them
to
someone else
often called
selective memory
but
once
such flaws
are
stapled onto
another’s
existence
it becomes
a form
of
assassination
but
i suppose
it
really
doesn’t matter
since
we’ll all be
forgotten
anyway

 

 

exiting…

exiting

the end
seems to be made
of
broken pieces
parts
like hearts
that
now seem
to fail
and arms
too weak
to hold
what once
seemed
quite light
oh
this growing old
seems to be made
of
broken pieces
minds
full of history
but
no one
to listen
nor
will it hold
new thoughts
like before
oh
this growing old
is
full of
broken
pieces

god bless ye merry gentlemen…

god bless ye merry gentlemen

unwrapping presents
sharing moments of laughter
all’s well in your world
a limited world
excluding homeless children 
and those left alone by time
have another glass of cheer

 

 

you’ve missed the bus…

you've missted the bus

man’s greatest madness
those delusions of grandeur
streets paved with pure gold
those seventy-two virgins
there’s no blissful ecstasy
no choir of angels singing
oh you had your chance
but you failed to realize
that the heaven sought
was the warmth of children’s hands
smiles and laughter of old friends
and sweet scents of early spring

measuring…

measuring

guess
the clinical
definition
of
depression
would apply 
to
a lot
of
folks
these days
so many of us
having
to bury
family
and friends
as the dust
from
their graves
swirls
in
the winds
of
hatred
it settles
on
my beliefs
turning them
ashen
but
i recall
hearing
someone
say
when you’ve
laughed
more days
than
you’ve cried
it’s been
a good
life