The Author's Unspoken Words (MGS Writings)

My poetry is known to be pathetic The stanzas are far beyond lyrical My voice fills the heart with sorrow My eyes are blind to see a brighter tomorrow My heart is filled with your regrets An empty soul is all you're bringing My path following a lonely pattern My isolation is aftermath My meaning of living is very nil My hunger can never be filled My purpose in life is unknown My insight can never be shown My emotion will always be dry My own being, no sense of faith My spirit prepared to be knocking for nothing My presence is never expected My true sense of peace is not impacted My only true friend is misery My love is caged, and never to be free My hope was never born My motivation was never worn My settlement has been broken My secrets left behind as the unspoken My end has arrived near My heart feels no fear Now I’m about to die A warm liquid falls from my eyes.  

image from google You did not mind, but people minded. A silver crown in sunlight shone. You did not care, but people noticed. Whispers of wisdom quietly float. You don’t check, but people looked. In every strand of grey hair, a story told. You try to hide them, color them, Yet still gleamed, like a star in the night. Each strand of grey hair is a sip from life’s rich cup. Grey hair isn’t a defeat but a piece of experience, bittersweet. Be proud of every grey hair you see, It’s a piece with dreams and paths you’ve been. The stories of laughter and tears The testament to the beauty of life; let them shine. For every grey hair, embrace that’s a journey of life. 

Before, she was at every table, Meals, parties, raised voices over wine. Sky's the limit, "Her friends loved to hear from her" They called her, they wanted her. Parties, gatherings, every occasion she's the highlight, Her hands were useful, her stories relevant. The talk of the town... always had the entry, The nights are not complete without her presence, Her laughter had its place; her smiles mattered. And then slowly... the invitations slowed down. Not all at once, No... It's more discreet than that, the distance. Friends think of her... but afterward. They talk to her just as a work matter, HI's... HELLO's before often, now seldom, They love her, of course... but from afar. So, she stopped waiting for them to make room for her. She started making her own, laughter, smiles, tears, and stories She set the table for herself, put on the tablecloth, napkin, candle, and wine. She gave herself flowers, a chocolate, not to decorate but to...