No more lunches 
Category: Writing and Poetry 

Listening to the sound
Of the footsteps on the ground
The rushing winds of change
Came driving down the range
All things look different today
The sands of time have blown away
Thought I'd something more to say
No more lunches
No more calls
No more early morning talks
My heart is like wax; it is melted within me
You have brought me into the dust of death
Pain and sorrow
Will diminish on the morrow
But for now they are my only friend
Many letters I meant to send
But the grey blue fields
And the early morning mist are near
The fertile rows of the poet's prose
Will greet me there
We'll write sonnets in the sky
With broad brush strokes we will fly
The seaguls will whisper on the wind
What is this manner of existence
To be without justice
To brave the cold without a loving friend
To have eyes to behold, but never wonder
I laugh at the jester who stole my breath
For he is not the taker of my soul
Never yet have I told you how I feel
Nor yet held you with the passion of the gods
Never will I ever see you again
I am gone from you
I am nothing and no man
A fool and child that is worth believing
A gift that is worth never receiving
A death that is worth never grieving