the years seem to add up
when happiness falls short of one's pride
turning off the private rage
leaves a volt of courage to cushion
the following of a very bumpy ride
and we're shaken apart by abused desire's
unfulfilled needs
and on each of our backs
broken promises form like burdensome beads
sometimes the spirit gets cleverly crushed and
left behind in a haphazard heap
oh what some wouldn't give for a whip, a wall
and a willingness to weep
dreams of the dead desire many things
but least of all is sleep
for this we should be grimly glad
that this time our sanity
we are allowed to presently keep.......
(written Sept 19, 1992 am)