It’s June. I know. But wintertime
Is always somewhere in our hearts:
Like memories of distant times,
Or love that comes in fits
And starts
It’s June. I know. But wintertime
Is always somewhere in our hearts:
Like memories of distant times,
Or love that comes in fits
And starts
The truthful moments are so few,
We hold the rest in disregard;
But if I could, I’d comfort you,
And make a wonderland of your
Front yard
We all could use a break sometimes,
To get away is fine;
The brightest star requires space
If it is going
To shine
Now all day long, I give advice.
It’s free, but well worth twice the price;
Just come to me with all your woes:
I’m sure I can solve all of those.
For unlicensed life expert (me)
Will counsel you to sanity:
With bromides, and with pale cliches,
I’ll guide you through life’s twisted maze.
And though you might ask who the hell
Am I, to think that I can tell
You how to live, or who to date,
Believe me: I’m just really great.
So join our new proclivity
To dwell in positivity:
For no cents, you will get no sense,
And little
Sensitivity
She’s never ‘old’ to him, for still the light
Of crimson sunsets stolen from the sky
Come back to him, as though an hour ago;
A truth no time can ever
Falsify
She left,
The streets seem empty all the time.
It all seems hollow,
Now that they’re apart —
He never cared if she
Was here,
Or there –
It seems the heartless
Just might have
A heart
You fear: for what you know, from what you’ve seen –
That’s not all bad, but please keep this in mind:
Be careful that you do not scorn the dawn,
For it holds treasures you have yet
To find
“Now, how can you be tired?
You’re still young –”
It’s asked without
A trace of irony —
As though exhaustion’s province
Was the old,
And none of us have slept
Since infancy
“Stop dreaming,” said the world,
But she refused;
She still had life, and it
Was hers to live
For though she find herself
Now rather bruised,
She won’t give up while she’s
Got love to give
For love cannot be broken, e’en by hell,
And no amount of hatred
Makes one
Well