As the memories in my scrapbook fade,

Cobwebs, dust, and age invade.

All my dreams have since gone by,

And upon my album I must rely.

My youth was spent in unfortunate woe,

While my distorted mind ceased to grow.

Silhouettes, I often recall,

Were etched upon my weather-beaten walls.

Faces of wax melt away,

As I try to recall my friends today.

My adolescence soared in flight,

And I yearned to chase those flickering lights.

The time I spent trying to find my space,

Appeared to be vague and out of place.

And as I grew into an adult,

I learned of life and its attempted assault.

I remember pondering love's lavish throes,

And how it resembled a fading rose.

The prickly thorns that prick when unaware,

Draw blood from the heart, no feelings to spare.

Erased from time and guided toward doom,

I sit alone in my pitch-black room.

Not even an asset to life am I,

Just tempting The Reaper with my wish to die.

Angels won't convene when I am gone,

And life will abruptly carry on.

Such a wasted dream to sit and weep,

One long decade past me now;

The memories still pace my mind;

I think about that lonely boy,

And what was on his mind.

A young man leaves home, he's on his own

He travels very far;

He's gone to help his fellow man,

To win a bloody war.

The young man finds he's all alone;

Night after night he cries;

Suffering from the bloody war,

As he sees the young men die.

Letters from the family,

Come from the Western coast;

But they cannot ease the pain,

As he makes another toast.

Day by day, the war goes on;

The smell of blood and death;

He thinks he'll faint from just the sight;

He fears another breath.

The visits home are comforting;

He prays for the war to end,

His wounds are bleeding deep inside;

He hopes them soon to mend.

His last trip home, though he doesn't know,

Is hard for him to make;

He's much, much worse, and tired, too;

His life is now at stake.

He hitches a train to Baltimore,

A place he's been before;

And then from there, five-hundred miles,

He walks until he's sore.

Then one day a note arrives;

The news still rings in my ears;

"The war has ended; Please stay home

And wipe away your fears".

The war was won, and Vietnam,

Was left without much hope;

Hunger, pain, and poverty,

Stricken the lives of most.

The young man now is twenty-one;

The war has left him drained;

Confusing questions fill his head,

As he starts to go insane.

One lonely night in the summer heat,

Thoughts are rushing through;

His muttled brain is twisted now;

He knows not what to do.

The gun is loaded and ready to go,

As he presses it to his head;

It wasn't his fault; We owe it to,

The war of the innocent, now dead.

He didn't mean to take his life,

Though he had a legitimate cause;

My brother was a lonely man;

Full of war-time flaws.

I say it was the Vietnam War,

That left me an only child;

My mother still holds her tears inside;

For me, she has to guide.

I've tried so hard to bury the past;

But still I sit and cry;

With the memory of the lonely boy who died.

Gentle thoughts of you,

Are with me all the time;

The warmth of the touch,

of Holding your hand in mine.

The strong embrace of courage,

The kisses soft and sincere;

With you by my side,

Nothing will I fear.

If you should have to leave me,

To find your peace of mind;

I will not restrict you,

For I am not that kind.

I will always love you,

For what you are to me;

And I will try to understand,

Your needing to be free.

If life should take you from me,

And leave me all alone;

I promise I will keep the strength,

You gave me to carry on.

As I lay sleeping in my bed,

The room I'm in turns shades of red.

My body travels towards the wall,

And I can hear as small voice call.

It's calling me to follow it,

Into a deep and dark-filled pit.

I fear to follow one more step,

Until I fall into its depth.

I scream until my voice is hoarse,

But something inside longs the course.

I fall and fall but never hit,

And find I'm lost inside this pit.

I grope and sweat; there's no way out,

I plea and beg and scream and shout.

I'm captured in this endless pit,

It never ends; I'll never hit.

I think to myself, "This must be Hell",

It's not as bad as people tell.

I pray to the Lord, my soul to keep,

But there's only one way to die in your sleep.

Do not fear my touch,

For I am a gentle breeze;

I will only engulf you,

To caress, refresh, and tease.

I will soon blow over,

And you'll miss me when I'm gone;

But do not fear me death,

For I will just blow on.

I'll leave behind the feeling,

Of joy you feel right now;

Having me sweep around you,

Cooling your soaking brow.

When another breeze comes drifting by,

Whispering her gentle sigh;

Do not fear her touch,

For she will soon pass by.

Broken glass and shattered dreams.

So much input, effort, and talent --

My first assignment I had to give orally;

How could she make me do this?

Oh, I'm not the shy one, by far.

Don't get me wrong;

I love to draw attention to myself.

But, when it comes to publicly displaying,

Something serious that I have delved from my own,

Personal knowledge --

Well, it scares me.

Am I really intelligent enough to be here?

Or is it a question of maturity?

You stare at me with your liquid eyes and I melt away into a pool of golden sunlight.

Your eyes seem to pierce right through to my inner soul and I just know you can hear my innermost thoughts.

I wonder what they see underneath the masquerade of my own eyes.

Then you flash your smile.

It turns on the tiniest light inside my heart, whose rhythm rises in frightening tempo.

Your teeth are perfectly aligned like the ivory keys of a piano, playing an eloquent tune.

Words flow from your sensuous lips like water from a fountain.

Each sentence a verse from some lover's song.

Your voice is strong, yet soothing, like the caress of a gentle breeze.

The sizzle emanating from your body is only surpassed by its strength and beauty.

The moonlight dances upon your ivory skin, yet pales in comparison.

Each layer of tissue softer than the previous, until the outer layer melts with my own.

Your touch is gentle, yet strong, as it sends waves of unending, pleasurable shock through my very being, giving my heart climactic beats of passion.

Holding your hand is like gripping a life-raft along side a sinking ship.

Never wanting to let go for fear of drowning in a sea of non-compassion.

When you hug me, it's like the blustery, cold wind ceases to blow through my soul and there is a warm peacefulness enveloping my body -- turning hot, feverish.

Immortal thoughts rising from the crevices of my mind -- You embrace my world.

But nothing can compare to the passion that exudes from your entire body when your lips melt with mine.

Soft; Supple; Wet; and Luscious -- Your kisses send me riveting into a realm of sanctuary, never before trespassed upon.

The passion is immeasurable as my heart reaches plateaus of ecstasy.

The taste is bitter-sweet as I realize all kisses must have an ending.

Your infinite grace and wisdom touch the very core of my heart.

When I was looking for a little color in my world, you brought me an entire rainbow bursting with colors as brilliant as Diamonds, Emeralds, Sapphires, and Rubies.

Then, like ice thrust upon a blazon fire, the flames flicker out as I awaken from this mesmerizing dream.

And you are standing beside me.

We glide toward the dance floor preparing to hold each other as we dance the final dance.

In the firelight's red glow,

You are warm and tender;

I look into your eyes,

And I start to remember.

That old flame of ours,

That burned way back then;

How when the ashes settled,

The fire ignited again.

When we first met,

The embers burned strong;

We rekindled the flames,

As we went along.

Our love is a beacon,

Whose light will shine on;

When the black of night falls,

It will guide us toward dawn.

Throughout all our years,

If the flames die in vein;

We'll sift through the ashes,

To find our eternal flame