Poem 1How can people feel depressed,when everything seems fine?Even when there's nothing wrong,in their mind they soldier on,fighting back an invisible je ne sais qua.Maybe we all are missing something,but we never wonder what?We just sit and live with that hole inside,while our mood, from contentment, slides,Drifting down to a sorry statewhere a smile is just a lieand a frown betrays the truth inside.
The Skeletons And IWe spent the night in the graveyard,The skeletons and I,They slumber six feet under,While I sit nearby and ponder,On how they cannot walk, or talk,Or smile, or dance,Or hate,Or judge,Or scorn,Or kill...Some say true depression,Is to be envious of the dead,Then why do I feel such sadness,Yet not wish this fate upon myself?To me is seems those who choose,To hate, or judge, or scorn, or kill,Should be lying in the graveyard,With the skeletons and I.
Human ExistenceStart with Physical,And End With Emotional,Life, Death. Pain Connects.
Self Portrait, in HaikuA Jack of all Trades,But as this poem may show,Master of None, yet.
The Problem Of EvilHe was a well-dressed man. He had no need for an appointment. With a smile and a nod he walked straight past the front desk of Amplitude Records and into the lift, muzak filling the air as he ascended. He had always liked muzak, he found it enjoyably infuriating. In his hand he held a greasy burger, which he finished off as he left the lift, but despite his eating habits he carried hardly any fat on his lean frame. He walked confidently into the CEOs office, and before the head of the record company knew what was happening the two were already shaking hands. Please allow me to introduce myself, said the well-dressed man, Im a man of wealth and taste. A smile came to the face of the CEO, Ah he said, A Rolling Stones fan I see. Very funny The CEO hesitated, fiddling with a pen on the desk, but who the devil are you? The well-dressed man smiled. Call me Lou***He was less well dressed. It wasnt that
The Grim Reaper HaikuSome say he is grimBlack cloak over empty frameDeath brings the harvest