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FUNERAL OF EMOTIONS WROUGHT (quite insightful)
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JOURNAL #22 we are but naught
grim cellophane reproductions
of our truer selves
a shadowy nebular
burning down the short wick of life
carrying a torch
yet fully flamed
doused you see
by dampened purposes
hidden from our limited eyes view
Paradise is memories
that stay in touch with our conscience
they write to us even when we are sleeping
and call themselves dreams
they come to hold our hands when we are scared
and teach us to be brave
when uncertainty moves into our soul for
an unwanted visit
tears are late offered gifts left behind
after their stay
comforters you might say
who stay long after
'The Funeral Of Emotions Wrought' is past........
(Dec. 1, 1999)
