Poetry

The Day Of The Dead

Gone are the days of smiles,

All washed away in a wave

Of despair and cruel heartache.

Never to be seen again.

Now not but frowns remain,

The detritus of human nature

Swarming around us like locusts.

Filling the air with hate.

Damned are the souls of the living,

Come is the day of the dead. 

I Miss You

 My purpose is lost to me.

No matter how hard I try to open my eyes, and see,

I cannot. I open my heart.

All around me my happiness slips through my fingers.

I am me; and no matter how hard

I try I can be nothing else.

I wish that this could be enough.

But only truth my heart does teach.

I see the person I wish to become,

But I simply cannot reach.

So close my future passes by my grasp.

And though I seem to feel the happiness ahead,

It has fallen beyond the horizon.

Smiles pass me by on the streets outside.

But far from warm my heart, instead

All I feel is loss.

My love, my dear, there you are.

Why don’t you turn my way?

I miss you more than words can tell,

Though I see you every day.