The hesitant poet

 

WHERE DO THE CILDREN PLAY

Sings cat Stevens

and I’m taken back to a time

when my heart was broken

and the tears fall as a token

but that was then

and I got to that place

one more time

and the black dog of depression

howled for years

and many private sessions of tears

but that was then

and this is now

but the questions persist

although I’ve ceased to

search for the answer

and merely drift in and out

 ignorant on the tide of time

trying to make something

out of nothing

its in my nature

but it really has no future

I’ve been alone

for forty years

over half my existence

on this mortal coil

alone but never lonely

that keeps the black dog away

even on a tearful hopeful  Monday

JWL