REALITY

Many times, a problem comes about;
the answer is frequently the same;
the cause for it remains in doubt;
for, “I’m not the one, to blame.”

Many will not accept accountability;
they’d rather pass it on to another;
but, all need to accept responsibility;
not, blame a sister

Do thoughts travel; do they go anyplace;
or simpy reside, anchored to the mind?
Can they be explored, or even erased;
how is it they’re changed or refined?

Do thoughts present themselves, beyond being;
expanded beyond where you are;
do they possess either hearing or seeing;
are they known,

Life is often measured, only by gains;
with losses, rarely held in account;
after those losses, whatever remains;
are far fewer than what we surmount.

But, sometimes we feel we’re discarded;
like trash, sumarily dismissed;
our love has been totally disregarded;
once gone; we’ll never be missed.

Life

All truth is best expressed in thought;
for thoughts can’t be erased or changed;
if we could read them, we’d know what ought;
but, turned into words, they’re rearranged.

Thoughts are idly, floating free in the air;
there’s no way they can be disguised;
pushed by

I rarely wish to be all alone ;
I think that I need someone around;
their presence, I feel I need to own;
so that I can be their own clown.

For life is meant to be a party;
at least most of us think its so;
but in the end

Why’s life in such a hurry;
why does it go so fast?
Long ago, it rode in a surrey;
those days; long since passed.

Yesterday, I was merely a child;
with few responsibilities;
a world ahead, had me beguiled;
a world that was mine to seize.

Then, with youth

Always remember to live the story;
being faithful to your mission;
for your life was not intended as glory;
it’s to honor Love’s decision.

You must not live, seeking applause;
you must walk, avoiding pretense;
your very acts, must cause others pause;
but always avoid offense.

In all

I felt the waves of sorrows ebb in;
and the waves of tears, flow out;
an example, how depression begins;
what the cycles of life are about.

How can joy, transform to sadness;
or sorrows, turn into joy?
It seems like a form of madness;
these cycles of life, employ.