Re: O.T. Greetings to all, from ken(((Ken)))

[Guest guest]

Your poem is quite poignant.

" There is no consolation, that somewhere in this land,

Some one else does hurt as I... "

Yes, we all hurt; unfortunately, some of us more than others. Please know that

we may not be your friend who enter through your house every day, but your

friends who enter your screen every day. With our fingertips, you touched our

world as we touched yours.

We share your pain, discouragement and sometimes feeling of hopelessness. But

this is our lot; we need to deal with it and make do as best we can. We only

have one life; we have to live it until then end.

Take care and write often if you can.

kenneth samuelsen <squarehead52@...> wrote:

Greetings

When the streetlights wink their commands, un noticed

for the time of night is here, when all who can

go sleep, and the red from the light

spreads o'er the road like fresh spilled blood....

I am awake,

for, pain knows no schedule.

and I am alone, with only night sounds

to keep me company.

The ticking of the clock beats out a measured

count down of the seconds of my life......

and I am alone.

The passing of the members of my family,

who once cared, now gone forever,

as if they never were,

only a distant memory of what was,

so long ago.

I am cold. Life is cold. and I am growing old,

on wishes never to come true.

There is no consolation

that somewhere, in this land, some one else

does hurt as I .....

for them, I can only cry,

for to hurt as I is no comfort.....I can only wish

they didn't.

I feel as tho I am at the edge of the great cold sea,

slashing at the waves with my sword,

trying to slay the enemy ,

but the enemy is me.....for R.A. lives within,

hiding,

laughing,

as I flail away with sword of no effect.

I shall return,

dragging sword behind me, as I drag my feat,

thru empty streets,laced with spots of white,

where fog dare not intrude,

my collar turned'gainst the damp, and cold,

to my rooms, where everyone but I

lay coccooned in blankets of sweet dreams,

to wonder............for, once, so long ago

I was that warrior,and now, reduced to nothing

but a memory

I wait for the end of it all.

my only consolation

that faces I'll never see

will be

the only ones who witness when I fall.

k.a.s.

__________________________________________________

[Guest guest]

Your poem is quite poignant.

" There is no consolation, that somewhere in this land,

Some one else does hurt as I... "

Yes, we all hurt; unfortunately, some of us more than others. Please know that

we may not be your friend who enter through your house every day, but your

friends who enter your screen every day. With our fingertips, you touched our

world as we touched yours.

We share your pain, discouragement and sometimes feeling of hopelessness. But

this is our lot; we need to deal with it and make do as best we can. We only

have one life; we have to live it until then end.

Take care and write often if you can.

kenneth samuelsen <squarehead52@...> wrote:

Greetings

When the streetlights wink their commands, un noticed

for the time of night is here, when all who can

go sleep, and the red from the light

spreads o'er the road like fresh spilled blood....

I am awake,

for, pain knows no schedule.

and I am alone, with only night sounds

to keep me company.

The ticking of the clock beats out a measured

count down of the seconds of my life......

and I am alone.

The passing of the members of my family,

who once cared, now gone forever,

as if they never were,

only a distant memory of what was,

so long ago.

I am cold. Life is cold. and I am growing old,

on wishes never to come true.

There is no consolation

that somewhere, in this land, some one else

does hurt as I .....

for them, I can only cry,

for to hurt as I is no comfort.....I can only wish

they didn't.

I feel as tho I am at the edge of the great cold sea,

slashing at the waves with my sword,

trying to slay the enemy ,

but the enemy is me.....for R.A. lives within,

hiding,

laughing,

as I flail away with sword of no effect.

I shall return,

dragging sword behind me, as I drag my feat,

thru empty streets,laced with spots of white,

where fog dare not intrude,

my collar turned'gainst the damp, and cold,

to my rooms, where everyone but I

lay coccooned in blankets of sweet dreams,

to wonder............for, once, so long ago

I was that warrior,and now, reduced to nothing

but a memory

I wait for the end of it all.

my only consolation

that faces I'll never see

will be

the only ones who witness when I fall.

k.a.s.

__________________________________________________