Tyrone Sawyer Poems

The sun hits the morning trees

Frost on the ground, with a gentle breeze
...

Don't send me flowers

when I'm dead
...

There are times when the artist
Can't paint what he sees,
And the poet can't write what he feels.
But times are more favorable
...

The clouds of life encircle us
Meeting our souls within,
Allowing our minds to ponder
The hearts of fellow men.
...

They told my brother
To take the service exam
They told him he passed
So they sent him to Nam.
...

I've finally made the decision
It has taken me so long
And I want to tell you about it
in my suicidal song
...

The room was black, inside sat a
man praying
I knew of this because I could hear
what he was saying
...

Tomorrow Morning
won't be my last,
and certainly not my first.
Because I have died today,
...