Cleaning out boxes in the garage can be a good thing. Good when you come across a poem that you clearly remember once writing, ever so long ago. The irony of it is that I think I could write these words again today about 35 years later
Alone, feeling cold
Needing to be warm again
Sad, feeling down
Needing to be up again
Scared, feeling lost
Needing to be secure again
Misfit, feeling empty
Needing to be whole again
I am lifeless,
Needing to be born again
I see me now,
And reflect on a time when
Once lost ,
Needing to be found again
I see those years,
Just a walk on part
On the stage
Of my life
In a house I occupied,
But where I did not
Live
In a bed I slept,
But did not
Dream
My echoing thoughts,
A confirmation
Of loneliness,
Filled with emptiness,
Although be it without solitude
The night could have been day,
The day could have been night
Irrelevant
For I mourned both,
But wished,
Both away
Dark sadness
Medicine,
A mere band aid
For an open bleeding heart
Time,
Hurt in the moment
Hurt as it passed
Yet stood still as it ran
It was then when I had
Cancer of the Soul,
Living lifeless,
Needing to be born again
Not wanting to grow old
The Starting End 