Depression’s Bust

When the golden sunshine hides beneath A layer of turbulent cumulonimbus An acid rain begins to pour Upon an olden ornament bust Sculptured from a smoothest calcium carbonate Awaken from a placid reign A halcyon assassinate To face a malignant puddle An indignant struggle Its beings to crumble A once strong statue, humbled When precipitation…

Depression’s Reign

A bitter rain begins to pour Distorting a malignant puddle An indignant struggle The feelings are utterly poorA question that clouds the bluest of skies The downfall of demise Beneath the overcast doubt Who am I?No longer face with identity’s drought My hopes and dreams faded  With the rain sodden ropes Of my schemes slips…

Nightmare or Dream on the Shore On Another World

On the shore of Loch Larch  An old decrepit cottage lies Where a cantankerous man resides Alone with simmering a pot of pottage And rancorous flame inside Sounds of hisses and bubbles Filler the misses and troubles A broken spirit Every emotion, only a token For a previous passion Seeking compassion As he goes for…

Sunflowers

I was born this way Just chance, not choose And yet, you use to abuse  I found myself the prey For your ridicule of hate Just because you’re an insensitive fool All through school I dealt with this devil cruel From the vindictive browbeat  To the restrictive teaching You might as well have beat me…

Matilda’s Charisma

The way she moves  Disapproves of the funky grooves A great swagger with a bigger dagger Lady napper Matilda’s charisma Unlike blepharisma She never near water She's a kitchen porter  The way she purr Upon a silver fir You’re a restaurateur An amateur Matilda’s charisma Never near Estrilda Lying upon a mat You silly cat

Fear

Some may mere Some may smear Some may cheer Some may sneer All will fear I am standing hereAt the beginning of my own holy year I see my former drear My future career And my fugacious fear Will I adhere And disappear  In this premier Of grievous fear Solely because I fear? … No…

Regret

Remembering yesterday’s memory As part of one’s great treasury It’s a pitiful luxury In search of being healed Which will never yield Only to be sealed From tomorrow‘s open field