Constant Chaos

In the chaos of my mind,
I travel through and find,
That I live in a world where

People are rushing round and round,
Trying to make things seem sound,
Instead of the teetering mess

That they call their daily life,
That's filled with sweat and strife,
And no time for peace.

People working two, three jobs,
The poor the normal and the snobs,
All intermixed in this mess.

People falling in love an out,
Just because of a shadow of doubt,
Letting go of the hands of those

Who were with them at their worst,
Even when they thought they'd burst,
They just don't seem to care.

And then there are people getting hitched,
The ones who found love after being ditched,
Happy once more like they deserve.

I stood there once with my heart in my hand,
Held together with just a rubber-band,
Now I gave to someone else

Who knows how to handle with care,
Someone, who I know, will always be there,
Just as I am for him.

The Children Are Gone

Breathe in and breathe out,

Makes my body scream and shout,

Soon for sure, without a doubt,

There will be no children.

I throw my hands up in despair,

They burn incessantly without a care,

Making my time here meaningless,

For there will be no children.

Times comes and Time goes,

First it rains, then it snows,

There is no more joy left,

As there will be no children.

It goes in and comes back out,

The cloud so thick, my insides shout,

Take me now and save me from,

There being no children.

I wish to go back to that time,

Where everything I knew and said was mine,

Not so horrible as this world,

Without any children.

I spin in circles, as always,

Thinking up excuses and of ways,

To get myself to avoid accepting,

That there will be no children.

My heart screams in misery,

I continue with the atrocity,

I wait and watch for the time,

When there will be no children.

I wring my hands in utter despair,

For I spent my life without a care,

Reckless in my decisions made,

But now there are no children.

Time went on, waiting for none,

I began to think of what will come,

The age of misery and ache,

Of there being no children.

I look ahead and see prospects bleak,

Only because I was too weak,

To hold back just a little bit,

And still there will be no children.

He was here, and now he is gone
Playing on his pipe, calling out in the morn
The piper was calling loud and clear,
The children are now gone.