If seeing is believing, then I'm more than would have known,
To see my words down in print, now written in this poem.
If seeing is believing, then I see clearer then once did,
Everyday I try to pull a little more
Of those weeds that pop up in my life.
Not knowing how they all got there
It seems… of endless dredge and strife.
I promise to quit smoking soon
I'm down to a pack and a half.
And when I do, I pledge to me and you
I will never, I'm never ever going back!
There's an old wooden chair by the roses,
Where my Daddy went and sat.
He would go there every morning,
Crawled under the house to retrieve
something's that I had fogotten.
While I took them out, I sorted and found
that most of what I'd stored, was damp and rotten.