My Own Best Friend

Nothing like a listener

Who’ll understand your heart

Nothing like a fella who respects your solitude

Nothing like the perfect partner to see the world with

Nothing like being your own best friend

The loner retreats but is in good company

Who knows the next hour, who knows tomorrow

But he surely knows how to make time stop

Every second meaningful, every night laden with colorful dreams

Don’t say the loner is lonely

There is wealth and lush potential in the quietness of his aura

To Say, To Do

To say, to do

The years will still move on

Counting the days.


To wait, to proceed

The feet, stationary

As dreams are filched


To see, to unsee

The conscience knows no lie

But mouths sell tales


To feel, to pretend

Broken hearts can mend

But thoughts fuel a tirade


To say, to do

Each day, choices anew

And half truths, a framed picture askew