Michael Gale Poems

Th' glass was half empty...
As empty as his hair...
Do i dare say, that not i care?
The all surrounding hooplah creates all tempting...As i myself am self exzempting.
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Heartbreak is a treasured burymental recovery that falleth not on us...
'Tis a discovery uncovered naught on trust's.

Heartbreak is a flashment of time...
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Born with a silver spoon in one's mouth, so to speak, as being rich...
Is a whole of a lot better than being born poor, & hardly with an ounce of clothes, 'nary a stich.

Some people cannot handle the money and fame...
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We are all flickering in the crowded space here down on Earth....
Just awaiting for our candled wax to melt then leave us free to travel and soar up to Heaven, nearer the Sun.

Nearer the star, Nearer to God and Jesus...
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It flows from the heart, drip, drip, drip...
A long, slow motional discent of thick gooey emotional liquid
that my brain must convince my heart to accept.
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Walk and talk like a man? ...
Stalk, see and spied as i may or can.

Look as i walk as fast as i can...
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Darkness enfolds as surrounds...
I am stuck without sighted sound.

One minute without friend or foe...
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As the ladies assemble round yon pole...
A'fit reel tight and snug to the hole.

A'baited lure to a wonderful delight...
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A prayer sent up fast, of faith, to God...
Love for others with His approvaled, nod.

Answers of prayer does He send...
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As perverse divisional straights break off consistant resistance by man's obstinent acquittals of time and immortal ends...
Why must we become bleak depressional ends, of life's most valuable intake into the brain insane?

Lost horizons may only over-take our unevened levels of insanity pervase...
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