I'm considered disabled
I see it as being labeled
I held down jobs before
But can't get hired anymore.
Though I'm not a spring chicken
I love to make things happen.
I volunteer two days a week
For it's meeting new people I seek.
I've done a lot of things so far.
Except for personally driving a car.
I learned how to prove I can.
But staying safe is my plan.
I enjoy crafts that are easy to do
Coloring, drawing and writing too.
With all this time for more activities.
I try to imagine new possibilities/
I have a few place I like to be.
Like right here on AllPoetry.
I've expanded on the way I write
I'm often on here day or night.
I hope to be a published novelist
So that in on my bucket list
I've surpassed my own expectations.
Ignoring other people's speculations
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Hearing the music of memories
The songs that mean the most
to me are ones my father sang
Sometimes I'd get to choose
Whether it be nursery rhyme
Sesame street or mother goose
when I was a young girl.
As I grew he'd teach me
Something old or maybe new.
Things from the Beatles or Elvis.
He would sing the yellow Submarine
He loved My blue suede shoes
And love me tender, and more
Just some of what I miss
But since he's gone now
I miss him more each day
I think of my parents the most
When I hear I'll Stand By You
Knowing that no matter what
trouble I had they'd always
Tell me that I was strong
No matter what others would say or do.
The song I had to most fun with
And loved to sing with my dad
Was Kenny Roger's The Gambler
He'd sing when I was really sad
He knew I listen to every word
I'd join in when he came to
You've got to know when to hold
Them and when to walk away
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The fickle weather
Bringing in the brumal days
With winds that blow
the parasol far away.
****************************
I ask Why Me?
My life isn't fair
The way I have to live.
The cause if it beyond my control.
But no one seems to care.
I have to wonder what's it worth
To know I'm damaged
Right at birth.
Why me?
I'm not to blame.
8/24/17
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The two Ruffians.
They call the hoodlums.
Chasing them away.
No one knows where
They live or where they're from.
They're dirty and hungry.
With no family of their own
They joined the gang of Ruffians.
Hiding out within these walls.
Roaming the streets at night.
In search of food to feed them.
Prettypoet AP 8/26/17
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Chocolate remedy
Chocolate is the sweetest medicine.
It cures cramps and stomach pains.
I can eat it when I'm sad in life
It comes in syrup or candy canes.
I buy a big bag to make it last
But find I can't eat just one.
So the bag is depleted really fast.
And I'm wishing I wasn't done.
So out to the store I go
I will buy a gallon of ice cream
Triple chocolate with marshmallow
A Chocoholics favorite dream.
8/25/17
On Prettypoet AP
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The graceful swans
Peaceful and calm
Made a nest on my lawn
Under the old sabal palm
They float on their own pond
Taking flight daily to roam
soaring over the trees beyond
But always return to their home
*************************
9/9/17
Making summer memories.
We longed to get away for a holiday
Slip into the place of the unknown
Leaving the long work hours behind.
We'd make it up along the way
Just having fun nothing carved in stone.
Making a map of our own kind
We hopped on a passenger train
Set out to see the country side
Fields of flowers and herds of cattle
Some had patterns and some were plain.
We made friends while on that ride
Oh how they loved to prattle
Then we rode in a hot air balloon
We laughed at how tiny things look
Everything so lush and green
Oh how it ended all too soon
But we captured it in pictures you took
We tried to locate the places we'd seen.
It looks different in the dim light of the moon.
Next we drove out to the east coast
To see the waves crashing on the shore.
Feeling the salt air as it stung our faces.
I think this is the place I loved the most
But oh how we wanted to see so much more
So tomorrow we're off to find a new places.
One more place before our trip ends.
To the Mall of America we will go
So many big brand name stores are there.
We won't worry about how much we spend
For no one else but us will have to know.
So many different aromas of food fill the air.
All too soon it's the end of our vacation.
Sadly it is time to return home .
To our rat race of life we call reality
Heading back to the train station.
We're making plans of new places to roam.
New continents to explore and see.
No reason to rush, We go at our own pace.
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