Friday, December 20, 2002

my pen does flow alas only so,
the beauty that lies in the eyes,
sad to say everyone here is blind.

With one to sit idle at home, worst yet is to look busy when work is

I sit hour after hour, hoping to use my brain ,
when all doors close,i resort to my pen ,
the ink then does flow,

to yoy frind i write I say, as pain in my body is still there,
the brain that urges a challenge worthy of me,
but to look foolish for the benefit of thee.

to you I write my friend as i can see, that life has a total different
a cause that i search , a .life to live
freedom of my soul,
in any way..

yet bound i am to thsi place, bearing down on my soul and all there is,
I cry in pain , a silent tear,
that fall without a sound,

I yearn to see the sun shining, when i can run , scream and jump in joy ,
when i can take time to smell the flowers.
when i may lifet my pen, when i may paint from morning till the end,

when i fell that my brain is tickeled, in teh way it laughs,
the failure then would be sweet too, but alas, it is not there
only a silent yearnming that remains,

to you only my friend i share,
the thought that mind and biody both live
in harmony they should healthy too,
but with one giving me pain te other too joins it as a twin,

and if this is the way then dare isay ,
i will be there to see the ship go ,
beyound the younder where the lighthouse beckons ,

on the otherside of the river bid you farewell, for a good journey,

to you only my friend i share ,
that untill dawn i care , and the sun will shine
i need to smell it all
but with only all my might.

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