Poetry By Ken in Rainbow Colors





Here I'm parked daytimes
Behind drawn dirty blinds,
Gazing at bleak walls around,
Torn wallpaper surrounds.

In the smallness of this room
Fanciful thoughts bloom,
I survive this stark confine
With this fertile mind of mine.

I turn worn pages in my mind
Studying time left behind,
Taking a long considered look
From memories history book.

I only imagine the happiest past
Those memories that last,
No new ones will ever be made,
No unspoiled ones I'm afraid.

Thinking of what the future stores
Only dismays and bores,
I dwell only in the sad present,
Enduring on memories pleasant.

What good to think of what may be
There is no coming dream for me,
What good to think beyond today,
Such thoughts would only betray.

Here behind these flyspeck walls
As awaited darkness falls
Another day of thinking concludes,
I go to where the thinker broods.

Dragging my body on a messy bed
To rest my wearied head,
My thoughts mercifully close down,
I grow sleepy to the crickets sound.

Sing little crickets, sing sweet for me
I'm as forlorn as I'll ever be,
Sing little crickets with all your heart,
Mine is cruelly torn apart.

A wheelchair looms oddly by bedside
Daily into it's coldness I slide,
I begin each dreadful day as the last,
Thinking of happier years past.




©Written by: Kenneth J. Ellison 03-22-08

Song title: "Things Will Never Be The Same"

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