These Should Be The Good Times

please be my ears
come to me
I want you to know me
I wasn't made for this life
and the way it owns me
now as we grow old
who are you? where am I?

these should be the good times
these should be the good times

time makes a book marked for use
but soon we forget how
hands strike a bell, strings are loosed
and the mountains crumble
what would need to be
for the good of our lives?

now as we grow old
who are you, and where am I?


Losing Touch With Everyone

losing touch with everyone
but when we were young
we made claims and promises
the possibilities
but no time to speak
lives settling in misery

I'm blind as years go by
now I spend my life
re-living those days and nights
how often you forget
then a passing friend
reminds you of your regrets

it all ends in loneliness.........