My body resists this tired, Rebukes this tired, Evades this tired, denies and expels this tired, tries to escape this tired… My body fights this tired; Because it don’t have time to be this tired.
My body resists this tired, Rebukes this tired, Evades this tired, denies and expels this tired, tries to escape this tired… My body fights this tired; Because it don’t have time to be this tired.
Took a few days off,
Now I’m back with another one off
the top of this dome,
where whimsy and logic freely foam.
Pen keys open
[the] doors to my haven.
Writing a sweet freedom;
stories of belong,
Wistful strains of home
My soul’s siren song.
True wealth is the wealth of the soul
Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.
A collective of thoughts, poetry, writing works, blurbs, and other randomosity
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