I came from a family that didn't have much, no great wealth or material things.
So when our dear father passed-on, I got his most precious thing, his true unconditional love and his old worn wedding ring. He wore this band on his strong calloused hand, for all the world to see. Never once taking it off, to show all the world, the loves of his life, his wife his daughters and me. It finally came off the day they laid him to rest and was lovingly given to his best friend and son, yes that ring was given to me. It was my sole gift from that hard working man, a far greater a treasure he could not have bestowed. It stayed on my hand through good times and bad, through three wives I had of my own. Through all those years and many wives I never had kids of my own, I never felt the love in my heart that this man so freely bestowed. And at some sad and lonely time in my life, that ring had turned to nothing but gold. While in cold grip and maniacal clutches of an evil more greedy than most. I pawn my soul and sold that beautiful gift to pay dues too that grim evils host. I've long since broken free of that most sinister and evil of beasts. Still when I count all the sorrow the give and the take I feel that the beast finally won. For never again in a regret lifed life, will I ever wear that wonderful gift that was passed down from father to son.
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Another Christmas-locked-up once again.
Another dark Christmas- in this place full of hate, not one single friend. Another Christmas-homesick and alone. Another sad Christmas-longing for home. Another Christmas-my beloved dog now long gone. Another Christmas-all my friends have passed on. Another Christmas-still longing for home. Another Christmas-I just wish I was home. Another Christmas-please lord will I ever be home? They say that life is just a play, and all the world's a stage.
We all play our parts for good or bad in every single scene. I however rather think that our lives are like a song. We all hit our highs and our lows, but it's our own glorious sound. Sometimes it's a sweet and beautiful noise, and other times it's melancholy and sad. But no matter the beat, whether fast or slow, it's what makes our world’s go round. We can't always choose our song, the one we really want. But we can learn to dance, and enjoy our own song because it's the only one we've got. Each brick was like a piece of my life. They could be fresh and clean, like the dreams of my youth.
Then there were those replaced like the beliefs and prayers of a child, as the years take their toll. The old and the worn, a pungent sign of my life ahead. I walked and later drove that prophetic and loved road a thousand times in those long gone days. Even through the experiences and trials of life, I will still travel that old rd. in my mind forever. I will always see each brick with a clarity that only the old can see with, when looking back on fond memories of their youth. Each and every brick stood out to mark life's accomplished or failed dreams. That part of my life is long past, and my brick rd. is no more, replaced with the new, for new dreams. The blacktop stands in stark depth as a sign to what life has become. I'll never forget or love more ,any traveled paths or places I've been ,as I love each brick and memory of my beautiful "Old Falls Road". Sometimes bad things happen to good.
And sometimes good things happen to bad. Sometimes the bad people believe themselves good. Sometimes good people believe themselves bad. But most times all people get, exactly what they truly deserve. So when life hands you a rose, Or life gives you only thorns. It truly doesn't matter which. Just tell yourself "it's only life", and get on with living Bitch. |
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