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,
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.
I have a love I would die for
and they say their love is real.
Would they step in front of an arrow shot?
for this love they proclaim for me to feel.
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.
An oyster first forms a pearl
from the irritation of a single grain of sand.
It's never placed by mistake inside you see
it was placed by God's gentle Loving hand.
If I could live to be a hundred years
Or maybe two hundred more.
Would I have accomplished... all I really wanted too?
Than I have maybe... in all of my eighty-four?
We poet's need, his or her outlet!
Where we can write down the words that clutter up our minds.
It is a curse to have such a talent
placing ones feelings, of words sometimes in rhyme.