Ken, When my first wife, the love of my life, mother of my sons ran off, it took me a long time time to cvome to terms with this being I am and what I'm made of, so I wrote a poem, "ALL," because everything broken, scarde, smashed realized, tasted crushed... it doesn't matter, EVERYTHING is what I am, what made me, a lot of it was morfe than I could take, but it's me so I take big bites of it roll it around my mouth for the bitter, for the sweet, for the empty, for the full for the fire... I don't want to waste or lose a single bit of it. It's who I am... ready to swim across any sea in my way...
Vol
Dying young is the only way out, that let's us be forever youthful and remembered as such.
But now I am too old to die young and spend most of my days reminiscing about both whati did and didn't do. The didn't pile is impressive only in size, as my mind erases it from "to do" to "never will."
😃
Dear Ken...this is really something to think about hour after hour...very depressing yet true and that's what makes this poem so relatable....and well written...you make it seem so touchable, so visible...." how unhappy the poor things are...glaring down the befuddles barrel of a black hole"...(help me!)
Very vivid and likeable Ken
Warmly, B
How visually you surpass thoughts but create scenes most can 't even imagine! Yours are words to cry over, to beat chest upon but - only when albums are shut firmly and the lines on your palm tingle for some unknown reason!
Posted 3 Weeks Ago
2 Weeks Ago
Thanks Em. Wasn't certain if it exactly fit the new group's prompt, but all I had at the moment. Gla.. read moreThanks Em. Wasn't certain if it exactly fit the new group's prompt, but all I had at the moment. Glad you enjoyed