Thankful…

Thankful…

1- I went to Metro Beach and Lake St. Clair was beautiful and wonderful.

I took my three grandchildren to the lake and they enjoyed the day.

Lake St. Clair was quiet this day and the boys went deep into the kind water.

I watched them with concern eyes and I was thankful.

I became a old man and I am doing okay.

The bills are paid and my health is good.

The grandchild visit daily and I am writing again.

I do believe, we land where we suppose to land.

I am thankful.

2- In the midnight hours, I do write.

I use the music to evoke thoughts and words. And I write the words to paper.

I write of love, I write of deep rage and I write of false hope and dead dreams.

I asked the night. How many faces did I wear?

I told many. Walk softly, try to sin less.

We shall pay for every bad deed or action done in three-folds.

The cold men will die alone,

the good men, they do not die alone.

The poet wail to no-one in the 3 am hours,

he stripped naked every word written,

he stripped naked every bad deed done.

The dying poet wrote with bloody fingers.

After the deeds are done, you can’t be forgiven.

The good or bad deeds are written.

When you hurt another, create chaos.

You had scar a life and you scar your life also.

Always better to be kind.

If angry overtake you. Hold silence.

In the midnight hours.

Maybe the poet remembered?

Coyote