Poetry…(rhymes)
Is all I write
Feels like a waste of time
Time that has been kind
(In hindsight –
I’ve always looked behind)
Through all battles fought
Life has cheated
Me of what I once sought.
This thought will pass.
Love is me.
Its grief does not last.
But a violence fills me
I rage against the night
Silently.
Life will continue
to use love’s heart
Despite these poetic lessons
That chronicle
its tearing apart.
I am quieter,
I don’t want to strain to hear
Monsoon birds twitter now;
I hear them though, in the morning,
Some calls seem weak, some strong…
I am sadder,
As I look at all I hold dear;
Grave lines serrate my brow
While I question all my yearning
That can’t tell right from wrong.
Shine down on me, starry night,
Shower your blues and yellows;
Transcend death into your light;
I’ll wait until it all mellows.
Your buildings are cut and dry,
Blue-grey trees keeping them soft,
There’s one great star asking, why
Black brush strokes hold the sky aloft?
Faith falls short in my belief;
Nature becomes the pillars;
Trees big and small give relief
People are silent killers.
Starry night, kindly, be kind
And merge these lines into one;
Leave not a sole stroke behind
Beautify what you’ve begun.
Hearts Still Care 
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