every time I hear that haunting melody
a sad, romantic feeling wells up inside
it gently pulls out of me deep and hidden
emotions I thought had long ago died
I think of my soft, romantic self
and all that I'm missing plagues me
without any warning or remorse
Perhaps, I should stop feeling like I'm
losing out on life
maybe I can, in proper due course
when adequately inspired, I am quite the
postulated power house
many thanks go to the U.K.
to my pen pal's Liverpool mum, I am an
adopted scouse
this writing style comes to me so easy
I almost feel to be a fraud or a fake
I do not write my inner self into view
for any monetary gain, more so for my own
saddened sake
when I am continuously distracted
I meander along the page scribbling nothing
but senseless drivel
but interrupt this conflicting interaction of
sub brilliant events
placed on the cerebral hot plate
and you will find me falling far
short of being defined as civil
fearless and conservative pen with your direct
link to my soul's very own soul
I beg you push me hard if you feel you must
to accomplish mine in our long term goal.....
(written May 1,1991 in the afternoon)

Author's Notes/Comments: 

words use to assail me back then and I'd write them down as best as I could they didn't always come out so smooth and wise sounding.

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