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I have
lived – adventures - had a few.
I have
loved – had love – one or two.
Today
seems to have neither – nothing new,
as my life
is but a distant, clouded view
of all
that I once lived, all I once knew
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The
universe I know, by light of day, comes to me in shades of blue.
She
avoids, it seems, until the night, when everything is a black hue,
pot marked
by specks , pin pricks of light, indicating, there is more to do
and see,
and understand, then to romanticize the night skies, we view
as members
upon this human ship, we guide, as part of the crew.
----------------------------
My
universe is but one, huge, black hole.
My
Daughter’s life, her pain, I do not know,
as she
beats me up with a hurting word,
hostile
emotions, a parent need not have heard
or have
felt, as my soul begins to melt
in the
raging flames of it’s own pain.
What is it
that fates hand has dealt ?,
this old
father, eyes, heart, soul drowning in rain
with
questions of ?, what is going on, once again ?,
that she
must strike out, shouts loudly, screams about
that which
really has nothing to do with her action
as she
strikes, fists pounding on me, a reaction ?,
to break
my heart, crush my soul, this, do you know ?
I feel so
much like this miserable, November eight, day
–
saturated on the inside, lost, empty, cold and gray.
Melanie,
is in the grips of another negative spell.
What’s it
about ?, why is she lashing out ?, she will not tell.
The gloom
I feel inside, I am unable to hide this afternoon,
for it
hangs so heavy, drifting about, filling my every room’
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I have to
wonder what lies ahead – down the road ?
If, with
wisdom, - with insight – it could only be told,
what
grief, what pain, what heartache the future will hold,
for this
father, this man, this soul so old,
who, under
all this weight – might possibly fold –
that he
carries upon his narrow, weak, slouched shoulders,
like the
back packs - uncertainties of war – carried by soldiers.
B. J. “A” 2
November 8th
2002
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