Come and visit me in a dream,
And tell me how you are,
Are you floating on a cloud?
Have you found the brightest star?
I know you're with us somewhere,
Even though you can't be seen,
Painting the bluest sky,
Or among the grass so green.
As I'm wandering through the park,
Looking up at the trees,
Daydreaming of the joy you brought,
Will you visit me please?
Just send me a little sign,
White feathers on the breeze,
To let me know you're happy, free
And put my mind at ease.
Or ask a passing stranger,
With twinkling brown eyes,
A cheeky smile, and baldy head,
To nod as he passes by.
Or maybe play a special song,
Loud, on my radio,
That could have been written just for you,
About all the love we've known.
Come visit me in a dream,
And tell me how you are,
I know you're there, a floating cloud,
And one of the brightest stars.
He lives with her and says for sure, that's where he wants to be.
A lovely wife, who hides her strife, how attractive; Not to me.
Though she did stray, he chose to stay, defending love unkind.
He claims success, when it's a mess; A delusion of the mind.
He comes to me for I am free, my mind and soul complete.
I do not reflect; I have self respect and can't settle for defeat.
It's hard to say why he won't stay, perhaps I'm just to real.
He can't fool me, for I can see beyond ones fake appeal.
He will not leave though, she'll deceive and hide behind her fear.
It's way too late to close that gate; He would rather die than veer.
There was a time it crossed my mind, he'd choose this maiden fair.
This is me, miss reality, and he's not going anywhere.
Although I know that time will show, mistakes burn deep, ask me?
For I've been there without passions flare, and I lived in misery.
At least I know I'm not a show, but it seems that's what they crave.
A challenge, please! I'll never tease and you can mark that on my grave!
They live in a war zone, battling, absent of pause,
While seeking from within some exonerating cause;
Their existence is no more than one breath on a string,
They squint at the carnage, their war's sure to bring.
Having no distant future for the moment they exist,
All because of some substance free wills can't resist.
While their string continues their brains do so fry,
It has made drugs our problem a fact we can't deny.
With warmest regards and the saddest lament
I write this small note with the best of intent
The newspaper’s account of your husband’s death
Made me feel as if I was short of breath
As the son of a Veteran who twice went to war
I’ve often wondered, what my life would have had in store
If my father had not returned home one day
And I had to share my grief on public display
I was not born the first time he went away
And was just ten when he left again, somehow feeling betrayed
I didn’t quite understand why he had to leave
It took a while to learn not to grieve
I read that you have two little boys, just six and eight
I can’t imagine what you say to make their restless dreams abate
My mind used to play out my greatest fear
Misplacing his last tape recording, saying his coming home date was near
On return tapes to him, I played guitar and talked too
Trying to make him feel like he was home, even if untrue
I write this note to help me remember
That even though my father returned in December
Many that go off to war, do not
And sons, daughters, spouses and families are caught
In a process of grieving that abates only with time
It takes as long as it does, there is no magical chime
To help you and your sons with your journey that I feared most
Enclosed is a contribution to their foundation host
Not at all a fair trade, just to help provide for their well being
I know you remind them that their father’s love is all seeing
Imagine a vagrant...asleep on a bench
Imagine his body.....alive with foul stench
Picture this if you can/his life in the past
His mother a drunk, his father lives fast
Cast from his home at a tender young age
Still going to school at the puberty stage
Thrown to the streets to live as a bum
Nobody caring/his future looks glum
But, The Homeless Are Human, despite disbelief
Most even have Wisdom, bring comfort/relief
So, when you start thinking they belong locked in a zoo
Just remember my Friends....that this could be you
I feel for the miserable day,
They try to take MY gun away…
Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?
Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.
And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.
I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep.
Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.
And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.
To walk a mile in ones shoes,
Takes more then a glance,
Hold close with no excuse,
To give sympathy a chance.
As the journey is more than a window,
It has a house to build on,
Carrying the past as a shadow,
The ticket to the body of brawn.
The inner self knows all,
The outsiders read this to judge,
Don't point to the game with a fast ball,
For the true sympathy within will nudge.
You may not go through their times,
Or set yourself up in disguise,
Not one has the same obstacles to climb,
As some shy away from the hidden suprise.
You could be the one to make a change,
In the life of another or like wise,
You could be the one to arrange,
Or learn something new to revise.
Choices are given to each of us,
Some use widsom to lead,
Pull in the energy with blankness,
Alert in the errors; no need to proofread.
Sympathy gives off as a lifestyle,
Surrounded by a circle of care,
Listen with no words; a smile,
Giving your own struggles to share.
Use sympathy in all met,
For the main asset is understanding,
Walk a mile in anothers headset,
Not giving a blemish for the binding.
The shade of a swizzle stick dark and drawing
Fear head will fall in shivers while bowing
Snorts for some warmth fighting dreams till endowing
and save you from hugs where illusions are calming
Drooling aside to wiping the stubble
Awaken; then rising, then resting when humble
Sweet sleeping dreamer a'rest in the rubble
Left until morning when words will mean trouble
So we all face the weepy songs, throat clogged
just because its blue month with the rain running down.
So our stomachs quiver and we can’t quite turn
the doorknob, enter in to the late arrival complaints.
We forget them, next morning when the sun is strong
and our legs move us and our heart soars to sky.
And the breaking times, all alone, no one who understands
when nothing fits and we can’t figure out what went wrong,
we all have them sometime in our life, when our closest
teddy bear is a pillow smashed and covered with tears.
We set aside those memories, never going there again,
parent or child who died, suicide on mind that we recognize
in seeing you and hold you against the time you will reject
because even when we forget, we remember, all the deaths
and paint them yellow, plant the daisies, turn on brass
joyous refrains because having endured, we are strong.