My favorite uncle used to call me
the Big Swede, as he wasted away
from Gehrig's Disease, for thirty years .
These days dour, or maybe
melancholy would be more like it,
and I am as damned tired of it as you are.
Came too close to what would SURELY
have been a hard life, working, working
against conjoined mental conditions.
But could have been a happy life,
full of laughter love, family, emotion
and so much growth, which is what
killed the possibility.
Light glimmers now on the
horizon as the last family beacon
gutters and banks her fires for
that long step into the night
But will it be enough,
will it hold the darkness back,
will the 'Big Swede' return,
And throw this dour bastard out?
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Comments: 28
You have so much to offer...
"i WANT TO BE FREE, LIKE THE BLUEBIRDS OVER ME, LIKE THE WARM SEPTEMBER AIR, BABE, BE FAIR, BABE AND SET ME FREE"........................REMEMBER THAT OLDIE, LLOYD?
MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU AND YOUR MOTHER TOO, FOR AS LONG AS YOU NEED IT!!!! *HUG*
when has that ever applied?
often you have to walk in the rain to wash the dirt out.
WHO DID NOT SMOKE THE WEED
A SWEDE IN NEED OF WEED
IS A SAD SIGHT INDEED
A SWEDE
IS LIABLE TO TURN
DOUR AND SOUR
And, I love your comment "often you have to walk in the rain to wash the dirt out."
Mother Earth opens her arms to you.
Time will come when you'll find your way again.