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The days and nights have gone, the ink has dried upon the page, the poet puts his quill to rest, his wick is clipped, the wax frozen in time. At last the long awaited rest, the seasons pass no more.
Remembering those who have much, less, showing our love by lending a helping hand of generosity to those struggling to survive in the cold, bitter streets of our cities.
A time when life meant so much, family and friendly surroundings. Children laughing and playing, joys of being together as one, now shattered and blown in every direction, sad the lonely linger.
A true event, I knew this man, who lost his life and soul to cocaine. Ending up in the streets, homeless and lost. Once a man of means, status and education. How sad, this poem I penned.
Every son's relationship with his father should be that of a strong bond, respect, friendship, hero, teacher and never ending love. To receive anything less is a crying shame.
This title is modified,originally the mood he was in that dark evening, Vincent felt like dying, so he entitled his poem "Vincent is Dying" He never felt so lost as he did that night.
The sadness of a lost love appearing to the poet in his dreams. He is haunted by her, even though she passed so long ago, oh he weeps for her so.
This is an account of a boy who struggled in school with teachers and at home with mental abuse. Yet he succeeded and went on to achieve some interesting careers in his life.
Love is but bitter sorrow, yet to have lived a full life, shared, loved and gave of yourself, then leaving it, is but a glorious adventure for the departed.
The deep sleep of death awaits us all, for some of us too early, for some much too late. The desired rest, from cradle to the grave we are tested and grit our teeth as we lay to sleep in our graves.
How to win friends and influence people, share some soap, mix your clothing together, get tangled up a little, who knows what may come of it? I love visiting a laundry room, you never know!
The transition from being baptized as a baby in a Catholic Church, to being dunked as an adult in a Baptist Church, the differences!
He was known as 50 Caliber aka Dusty Tibbs, a quiet man at peace with his soul yet sharing with his friends his life as a soldier, chopper pilot serving in Vietnam and a man’s man above it all.