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The hardships of life haunts and follows us.
Dealing with problems is just what we do.
True half true the words I have said to you;
Lovely unpolished disgorged of the past
And the life from genuineness I drew,
Driving sane my madness, hoping for the last.
Apologies sincere with contentment.
There was no real winter in the desert.
As children, we would stair at the sky
And wish that the small white flakes would
Fall from the heavens and kiss our faces,
Like they did for the children on tv.
Sitting on the dusty ground;
looking, eyes scanning, always prowling for the little black speck.
The little black speck that shows life was here,
Here fifty million years have passed,
