Wednesday, October 12, 2011


sometimes at night
when others sleep
i mourn my life
i do not weep
for things undone
for words unsaid
i lie awake
in my safe bed

shallow prayers
seem empty now
i doubt my faith
i know not how
to pray with vigor
for eternal life
beyond the misery
of earthly strife

with pen in hand
i try my verse
some is bad
much is worse
but sometimes the lines
don't fall apart
and what i say
can hit the mark

this groove is good
the work is fine
i feel as if
i have my mind
to tell a story
for some to see
so sleep can come
bring peace to me

sometimes i try
sometimes it works
sometimes i fail
it's the writers curse
but know i feel
all that i say
i hope to write
another day

but if the reaper
takes me tonight
know i love you
with these words i write
we all end up
in a cold, dark grave
our words live on
our selves we save

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