A year was lived
Not too great
Yet pretty bad
Not the worst
But oddly strange
No signs of the world ebbing to
A soft landing
Rather someone trying to gain
The upper hand
We all suffer
All of us
All of us
Peace and Trouble
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Tag Archives: Writing
What is True
What is true
What is false
Some will say the end is near
Some say the future starts now
All we can agree on
Is to disagree
Cheers
War’s Mentioned
Wars mentioned in the news
Held up in a moments
Giving me the blues
All the screw balls and confusion
Who has the control
Who is trying to diffuse
Hold on tight I guess
The world it seems
Once was tidy
Now a mess
An Old Friend
An old friend
Was always familiar
So much so
That I could swear
That we had met before
In some other life
But in a similar realm
How quickly
Life can change
From sustained to lost
Living
To holding on
I love my old friend
As he transitions
Making his way from one life to
Another
And we will me again
My friend and I
Hope and Home
Hope held deep in the hearts
And homes
We the people
Own our own future
We own not land or car
Renting our time to make
Marks on this world
But in the end we are free to go
So what we leave
Will grow
In hope of life
In the home of each other
Christmas Morning
A special day
With special meaning
From the New York State
To the lands of Indiana
Hold on while the meanings grow
Strange traditions create
Bittersweet and new
The morning is light
The days filled with love
Held Hands
Hold hands my love
In these times of struggle
In the moments that end
With staggering pace
Hold hands
Fear not what lies ahead
Form a new world around us
What we choose will be us
Hold hands in these times
Hold hands
And hold tight
Mourning Morning
We will mourn the past
When we see our future
I have no idea what lies
Beyond the bend
But from the lines I read
All over the net
There is a distinctive message being sent
Beware of the future
It seems
Beware
Thanks for Saturday
Thanks for Saturday
A refreshing idea
Thanks for Saturday
Slow yet productive
Saturdays the world ebbs
Easy until a new week arrives
It’s been a good day
This Saturday
Times
Times strange and confusing
Greedy hands held
Clasped clapping amusing
How these fickle words
Find deaf ears
While the years
Go on and on
We have to push through
With our songs
