What a beautiful sunny day
Sitting in a garden
Sipping a cup of icy cool lemon tea…
Reminiscing the good old days…

You and I..
We used to walk hand in hand..
On summer's days … spring days and everyday…
enjoying the breathtaking view of your South Country
Colorful tulips, roses and daisies…
The lush green grass covered the earth…
The chirping birds on trees…
The nature's beauty that I will never forget
Tranquility as you said…
I had peace of mind and enjoyed my daily walk with you

I remember how you used to amuse me
A bouquet of pink and red roses
Your marvelous smile and a gentle kiss..
Special roses from you delivered with love for me
We walked down the stream
Down the trail deep in the forest
If there was a misty rain
We danced and played in the rain and laughed
Without anyone else around
You and me, just us…two..

In a dreamy state of mind I am today
Remembering you and all the good times
How could I relive those days all over again..
My feet are too numb… my body is too weak
To walk, to dance with you in the misty rain once again…
Who will amuse me with the red and pink roses again?
Today.. I am sitting in your garden
Everything still look the same.. Except for you aren't here
You wouldn't be here, never will be…
Twenty years ago I had loved you…
In October rain you were taken away…
I am left alone to reminisce the days…
Come summer, winter, autumn and spring days…
A hundred or a thousand more years..
I promise you that my love will remain… unchanged…
Look honey! It's the misty rain again…

I am a disappointment to my mother.
I don’t call when I’ll be coming home late. My room is wreck. I’m not in school, and I work two dead end jobs at places that don’t matter one iota to anyone in my family.
I curse. I smoke. I drink.
I’m a foul mouthed little child that can’t lose weight and sleeps around and never does what she’s told.
I’m a disappointment to my mother,
Despite the years of good behaviour. The good grades, the chaste life, the driven nature that took me half way around the world just to see if I could do it.
I stand in front of her today, still 6 inches shorter. Still rounder, still brunette. Still foul mouthed and still rebellious.
I still hug her tightly as if she’s all I’ve ever had. As if she is the only stability I’ve ever known. As if all those boyfriends who claimed they’d never leave either of us, as if all of those friends she had that I grew to love, and the pets we abandoned, and the apartments we called home, as if all of those things never mattered, or shaped me to be the distrustful little being I am today.
I still look at her like she’s all I have left. I never talk to her about stuff like that because I know it will only make her mad. Her hormonal short temper and her distrust of my judgement. I know I’m young, Mom, that’s why you should let me make my mistakes now, instead of in ten years when I’m married with children and never got to taste what being wrong in every way felt like.
I’m a disappointment to my mother. I want to have bad times. And hard times. I want to be knocked on my *** by life and barely able to get back up. She doesn’t get it.
She never will. I love her. With all that I am I will always love her but that trust that was once only reserved the only person who never left me, never deserted me and never gave up on me, that trust needs to be placed in me.
I am a disappointment to my mother because I grew up, and now I need to be a disappointment to me.

Twigs crackling, branches battling
against the wind
not to lose their fettle.

Leaves dry and brown
of feeble strength
away are blown.

Dangling like a thief
hung upon the gallows' cliff:

Old leaves from the tree
one by one be torn,
snapped off the boughs forcibly.

Decease by disease or sickness,
caught by misfortune or curse

Is man, unlike a gay green
leaf, in youth and in a merry gown
of life dieth; no more himself to preen.

Often the news gives me the blues
I really ought to choose
to simply refuse
I mean really, what will I lose

Schadenfreude?
no that isn't it
truth is stranger than fiction
more like a fascination with the surreal
or a blinded  self-affliction with the scroungy real deal

Talking heads  that speak for work
punctuate sentences with erratic  head jerks
nobody normal talks that way, they ask  rhetorical questions
when the answer's are known, they’re killing time
“rephrase the question, run the clock  out
a commercial will spare us the embarrassment of doubt.”

Take’s a special person to face each new day
with zillions of prying eyes  hanging on every word you say
the mendicant voyeurs  of utter destruction’s  charming new  day
the slashing  machete melt down of the abject speakers foray
"Oh say, can you see  by the dawns early light"
What's become of your people  and their obsession with fright
desensitization  is paramount  to  achieve  an abeyance of light

Frankenfoods, and "side affects" hideous monsters in the making
high resolution mayhem require victims for the taking
awaking half-dead like Dracula’s  each dusk
they'll find a cure, there's another vaccine, there’s always dumb luck
maybe you won't be the sucker that makes that dreadful scene
bludgeon your mind with a another  faker, a different fresh  news team
fobbing  your leery eyes you ponder “they can’t  possibly all be  the same!”
different day, different month, different  year, same game