Bad poetry

I always wonder that the poems I like best of mine are not what other like. And the poems of mine that others really like I do not.

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Walls divide

The wall divides
comes in between
and these here
and those there
and many there are
without a job
cannot pay bills
nor for children by food
the wall comes between
many hopes and dreams
of what there may be
and what there is now

some will build walls
others tear them down
perhaps someday there’ll be
only one side without walls

Some words shouldn’t wait

Noon day sun

Blue sky arcs high over my head
light blue like a hummingbird’s egg
soft and clean going over all
blue the calls within my heart to me

Golden sunlight shines down upon me
warm and pure filling my soul
warmth that covers me in its glow
as I walk upon the grass green

gentle breeze blows carrying to me
the sounds of laughter’s as children play
full of joy and happiness here this day
calling to something deep inside of me

a longing strong within my heart
pulls at me as I turned my eyes to see
parents and children’s families there
together and play happy and free

and I wonder as I watch
perhaps somehow I’ve just forgot
maybe it was once for me
just as the sight that I see

emptiness within my heart and mind
a longing for that which never was
could it be that somehow I forgot
perhaps somehow it really was

I do not believe that could not be
if such joy there ever was for me
somehow that I could ever forget
if such a thing there ever was

never did I play with them
never such joy did I share
never together did we play
under sky in light of sun

oh that it might have once been
what memories that might fill me
playing laughing together us
in a park upon the grass

filled with sorrow I turn away
such joy with them I never knew
how could it have been was it I
perhaps a child’s fault it was

I do not know I cannot tell
it was not and I know not why
days spent in light of sun
under sky of blue on grass so green

Notre Dame

Long ago at Notre Dame
In the concert sang I
And afterward something new
The first time I met fans
Walking out of the hall
Many people saw I
And for reasons I don’t understand
They all wanted me
To tell me how
They all like the show
Loved the songs I’d sung
They all wanted me to touch
I didn’t know what to do
Years have passed from that day
As still indeed I say
I do not know what to do
When ever I meet a fan

Take His hand

Crushed I am by my burdens
I stagger beneath the load
every step too hard to take
each one feels to be my last

others carry far more than I
somehow they do go on
there must be a way for me
to carry more than I do

long have I tried so hard
tried so many ways
everything that I have tried
never has been enough

I collapsed onto my knees
I cannot take another step
there is no way to go on
I feel my head hang down

I close my eyes and I speak
unto the one above
tell him that I cannot go on
I do not have the strength

He says he bore the greatest load
he carried far more than I
and sets a rock upon my load
and helps me to my feet

His hand in mine he helps me up
he says he’ll help me grow
that with his help I can do
everything that I must

and I do take another step
as I hold his hand in mine
and with his help I do go on
with his help I can

Lost words

I wrote this some years ago and lost my only copy till today.

A questing Knight

A nights lodging sought
in the castle bright
a simple room
a fire small
to ease a winter chill
a ember needed
to light a candle
and the fire
a quiet sleep
in the bright hall he goes
in simple need
gaily welcomed
to midwinter night
their Lord to honor
the night of his birth
music full
food aplenty
a places cleared
along the board
gifts are given
the night is late
morn quick coming
another long ride
poorly rested
on a bright new day