What’s left behind
We may forget,
Tho some of which
With much regret,
Albeit dismissed
As mere neglect,
Persists remain
As part of us,
One suffers fret
Fate instils thus,
Till life defines
Best one be bold,
Ere to achieve
A state of mind,
To render whole
Wouldst fix to find,
Inspiring soul
Desires opine,
Worth rescue
What we left behind!
An ode to wishful thinking!
He is as one
With he whom resides
Abidingly inside,
Who lived within
When body draped
With youthful skin,
Yet he who be therein
Albeit much the same,
Not so the he we see
Worn more than thin,
With cragged façade
Those years did carve,
Upon a now worn lad
The while resides as one,
With he who lives inside!
ode to they who have arrived
When I awake
In early morn
I linger there
The while beguiled,
Envision the while
A rousing storm,
Albeit semiotics
Tells I am born,
This day again
to keep alive,
Impulsive ways
To but survive,
In life too fast…
Hence so I wake
To contemplate,
A constant haste
That cannot last,
Yet would so blur
Time hurry past,
More than before
Worries my stay
As it contracts,
To illuminate
Most every day,
Thus in the wake
Of early morn
Find to invalidate,
Time hurry past!
Poetry on a canapé 