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EverRuss
Member

since 2003-12-31

Posts 66
Indiana

0 posted 2004-01-19 12:41 PM

The cold pulls in my jacket
Starting the truck
Warming the heater, rubbing of hands
Walking into the house, Grab the mug
I go, Before i sneak a kiss, for my sleeping beauty
Lonely dark street i pull into suburbia
Watch as the head light pulls into work
Squared sellling ground, others will be here soon
Sun escapes the buildings, seeps into my eyes
The hordes enter, no longer mindless some are
Engaged in conversation we go, lear of their life
To the house we deliver i take my attentive son
I watch as his eyes scan and learn
A love so deep its piercing
pride jolts through me, My son
I dont want his life mine
Tho he will respect it, this i do not know
I return, there he is my oldest
He is a man now, in my footsteps he is
Lunch draws us near, Ration our food we must
Returning to the square, everyone is gone
Returning home i count the bills
Only for another day
But I love her
Everyday
It cant be bills for another day
Only for another day

If my poems could talk they would mean more than the words

Russell

lovejunkie
Member

since 2003-12-31

Posts 93
Indiana

1 posted 2004-01-19 12:47 PM

Russell.

The memories in this are very deep and close to your heart. I think you shared a little bit of your childhood with us here. I love it.

-Steph

Mysteria

Member Laureate

since 2001-03-07

Posts 18328
British Columbia, Canada

2 posted 2004-01-19 04:39 PM

As a parent I think I have thougth some of these very thoughts, and on retrospection I think I almost drove myself crazy with worry. I loved this study of self, and family - well done.

Life is but a magical mystery

Marge Tindal

Member Empyrean

since 1999-11-06

Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores

3 posted 2004-01-19 07:10 PM

Russell~
If found this penning just wonderfully insightful~

AND ... your signature ... precious~

'If my poems could talk they would mean more than the words'

I think your poems DO TALK !
*Huglets*
~*Marge*~

~*When the heart grieves over what it has lost,
the spirit rejoices over what it has left.
- Sufi epigram <))><

[email protected]

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