They well write about me
In my obituary
That they were wrong
He hid his pains well
Though not a famous author
He left behind a legacy of stories
Wrote of others glories
Though never really rich
He was also never really poor
He left his feelings to explore
And sugar for the Hummingbirds
Buzzing of their wings still heard
And the games they well be played
The hopes and dreams of fame displayed
Far above they are not alone
The skies above well open love be shown
For I well not leave my legacy unknown
Look beyond the man what is inside
For no part of his heart did he hide
But I would not have one tear shed for me
Just now and then a memory
For in our hearts let no demons be
For he came was the silent one no one could see
Let the lawn be mowed and prune my apple tree
And then only then are you right about me
Let wars and hate end and that be my legacy
And if you read this far I intend to wake up tomorrow
If for only one more day in this world I might borrow
*Sometimes as all you poets know. I don't know where
the words I write come from. They just flow. This is
one of the times just thought I'd let you know. I try
not to write Maudlin things. It must just be the mood
I am in. Happy Easter to you all and finally the sun is
breaking through days of rain. Boast happy thoughts back
up again./dandy
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