It has been nearly two years since I last used this forum. I have found my pen again and I feel like good old Mr. Todd when he was reunited with his friend. My friend wont drip rubies as old Sweeny's friend had done so well. My friend will glide ferociously across the page and find its mark true, hopefully to enthrall and entertain you. With a crack of my knuckles, I'm going back to basics where my passion for ink and paper began. Poetry was my way of letting my readers know where I was in life as a teenager. Nearing thirty, I need to go back and find out why I lost my friend.
Before the Tide
Insomnia grips me, I can't explain.
Seems like I can't shut off my brain.
Looking back I remember pain.
Looking back I long for the rain.
She tells me it will work out fine.
Look forward, try to forget what's behind.
Search the horizon for what is divine.
Been trying to write what's on my mind.
Therefore, I pledge a tribute.
My story, but not in this fashion.
I will distribute
my story, and fulfill my passion
This format seems best for now.
Moving on, I am not sure how
I can begin again to make you say, "Wow!
The kid's still got it, I'm paying attention now."
She says I'm home again, I feel far away
Three in the morning with so much to say.
A legacy for my kids, I'm hopeful anyway.
There will be more, but not today.
I miss the cold North, now a wanderer I stumble.
The hot South makes me weary, yet I will not abstain.
Seven years have passed by, I sit before you humble.
Soon again I will bathe in the rain.
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