What is so special about your face;
that one you’ve chosen to share;
the picture you’ve elected to embrace;
upon which all others stare?
It’s a constant picture of who you are;
you never leave it behind.
From it you’re known, wide and far;
for it
Hello & Welcome to
The Cardboard Breadman
My being’s traversing reality;
traveling a road of existence;
trying to maintain neutrality;
with effort and persistence.
All life seems an ebb and flow;
without a sense of direction.
It is true, I’ve no place to go;
no future has my affection.
Destiny is blowing my sails;
I’
I recall a kiss from a long time ago;
but the feelings around it are gone;
for thoughts include feelings; even tho;
those feelings failed to live on.
How is it such feelings can dissipate;
for, they’ve disappeared in thin air.
Can’t they remain, that I can relate;
I was returning from work late one night;
down a dark, narrow country road.
A cat in the middle, lay dead, in my sight;
his eyes, looking up, simply glowed.
I avoided hitting him; I felt so sad;
poor little kitten; wasn’t meant to be.
His short life had
There are times in life we feel helpless;
when alone with no purpose learned;
and then it appears we are useless;
our future no longer discerned.
With no longer someone who needs me;
I feel much like a unwanted package;
I no more know what I’m meant to be;
The world had taken on an unusual feel;
it didn’t really seem to be there;
instead, it seemed to be almost surreal;
twas a reality devoid of where.
How could anything possibly matter;
all things; destined to be thin air?
Life had become about useless chatter;
played before others,
I saw a scene of spectacular beauty;
wondering if it was real.
It was like a scene from a movie;
that’s why it had such appeal.
Did such a place really exist;
or was it just a dream instead?
when I awoke, would it persist;
or, just like my
Scrapbooks collected and stacked high;
of lives, long gone and forgotten;
new generations keep wondering why;
some of them noble; some, rotten.
Lifetimes of memories gone to the grave;
what possibly could be their reasons?
Centuries of peoples did history enslave;
were they all to be lived for man’s