You See Me in the Next Moment . . .

You see in me . . .

a shape, just a shape of a once-happy man

Friends galore, smiles to give, ready to give a hand.

Years slowly eat away my name, life, and land.

You see on the outside . . .

a faded name, a wrinkled tears, so painfully aware

Frowns and blood droplets come, but no beware.

Inside my shuttered eyes . . .

I can hide safely from the cold, painful stares

From the senseless songs, cold friends, in my lair.

Over the next mountain . . .

My circle is complete with no vows to keep

Gasps and water-tight satin’s shiny sheen.

I have touched eternity . . .

I can now sing eternally . . .

And live. Yes. Just live.

In my view or slant of the above piece of poetry, which is NOT overly-promotional or sub-standard, is one of the sharp-edged phrases that a writer can touch and feel while thinking about how the next phrase(s) are going to affect the next line or stanza.

Many times, I know that I am not alone when a poem such as this one comes down life's way, but over the years, I can attest to this text that is very personal, to-the-pont and overall . . .honest, which I believe, does act as the fuel such as thins one or those with only eight phrases.

I wish that I could just sit here for about seven hours and churn-out these ideas and views of real life, but in (this) vehicle, I have accomplished that.

Thanks for reading.

Kenneth