Another day
      has slipped away,
and in that time,
      the choice was mine.
To make the world, more bright.
      doing what, I know is right.
Did I cause, someone to smile,
      did I go that extra mile.
Was I quick to lend a hand,
       was I forgiving of my fellow man.
If I failed yesterday,
       may I succeed, if I get "another day."

Take the language of humanity,
    Choose the words that Sing, to Thee.
Arrange with the precision of universal time.
   Write them down in perfect composition, and rhyme.
Leave us mortals, one and all,
    Envious, and filled with awe.
                 Speak to me,
                         Speak to me
                                    In poetry.

Pale leaves fall silently in the dead of winter
I realise I have lived far too long
I was once a bold and outgoing singer
but no longer has life left me any single song-

in the night's thickest snow I wander
the heartless winds they blow loud and strong
tears of forlorn love on icy rocks they flounder
in this chilling hour I weep,  to none do I belong

It is not as sad to die alone.... (relief, escape, freedom, end)
As it is to live alone and die the slow lonely death of never giving the love you wish to share and feel.
It is a sadness that only the bearer can know for the witnesses only ever saw loneliness' outer shell if they even noticed at all.

All lives matter!!

Born in the age of free love and still paying off the debt.

She was once my beautiful damsel and I was once her knight....
Then we went to twice a knight and the universe seemed alright.

Of dust both stars and we are born and so to all will each return.
But in between, dust gives a heart a need for loves' enduring yearn.
In times' course on cosmic scale all particles are drawn to another one.
And so stars and love set adrift, until once more, all but dust is gone.

I remember how it felt and every dark and angry pain,
the feeling of tender soreness from every ache and throbbing sprain.

I remember ruptured internals and the fire of an appendix burst,
and the excruciating agony at every touch that was loudly cursed.

I remember the touch of many physical pains that left me feeling sore,
But nothing hurts so much as that last time you left my door.

Today's that fill with memory of yesterday,
So many days of happiness and of sorrow.
And yet we wake each morn to dream,
That there may be better days tomorrow.