It is so hard to pretend.

I don’t want to lose you.

They don’t know they’re gone die… cows I mean, indeed all animals, hell neither do I and yet I know the fear of death. Fresh Fear; it seems like everyday I find something new to be afraid of and one day I will be devoured, and when the time comes I’ll be…

Should I blame birth; as they say we are all born into sin, so I have yet another father figure to blame for not only such sin but my fear. Root of Fear… I have no willingness to claim it but here it grows and knows that I am afraid; am I alive?

This is a poem about feeling alone and waiting for someone to come along and rescue you from the feeling.

Oh, the greatest of things is to enjoy the light and warmth of the sun, especially after a cool winter!

Just writing what comes to mind.

What are our dreams and hopes? Even if our life is short – very short?

Is there realization when you’re dead?…

You should always go with how you feel inside.