Sitting here, head in hand
So tired, I can barely stand
Painful words, ricochet against the night
Heartbreak heard, a lover's mournful plight

Memories haunt me, you are everywhere I go
I loved you more than you will ever know
Looking around, I am numb
The tears threaten but won't come

Shut myself off from these feelings
Done with romantic dealings
One too many failures for me
Love, I beg of you, let me be

Frost
was a wonder poet

Frost
now frosted by time
as we all some day
will and shall and must and ought to be
as time spares none
neither you nor me //I

so as our time goes by
let us our minds
in the wilderness freely fly
seek the unknown
and mark in stone
someday we shall also be known
as engraved pieces of clay
with homes unknown
let us frost
ere snow arrives
who knows what may later arise
and we will be lost in oblivion
and
with no surprise
nor a prize

Time to hang the coat on the hook
obey the curator's chiding look
and stare at the roaring darkness till dawn.

A sleepless night of hourly chimes:
Aubade is worth two lifetimes
of rummaging for a philosophy of death.

Here is the Poetry, left on the shelf
by the fast generation, weary of wealth
rushing ever nearer, to the unexamined end.

Where all days collide and darkness brims;
He gladly sucked through thickest rims
to the ever decreasing circle of his eye.

https://docs.google.com/file/d/0B1CDwQMLJs6QM1pvc1p1Uk5Ha1k/edit?usp=doc...

In Autumn dreams
Whistling wind chords sing
And leaves whirl wildly
Falling from tall oaks

Yellow, red, orange blade-like petals
Travels in the cool breeze
As I peer from my chair
On folded arm my chin rested