"Poetry & Rhymes" by William Hancock

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“We’re”

We're

We’re beautiful and loving,

We’re wicked and mean,

We’re evil and kind,

And

Everything in-between.

.

)-(
William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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[ Image used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/907211 ]

Poem on Image:  placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2015′

“Through The Curtain”

Through The Curtain

As he sat in his cold dark room,

Scratching his ear as he thought,

He peers through the curtain, towards the moon,

Remembering a life he had sought.

.

He thinks of a time, and gets a grin,

Remembering his children as they played,

His wife,.. . as she kissed his chin,

Oh, those were such beautiful days.

.

Why has God forsaken me so?

He asked of himself, in knots.

All are gone, and I am old,

And death comes for me not?

.

Lingering, in his memories,

He looks towards a photograph,

Of an orchard full of apple trees,

A group of family as they laughed.

.

His dreams are of a happier time,

When the sun had shined on his face,

Of friends and family, and drinking wine,

And kids running all over the place.

.

Now he’s old, and all alone,

Everyone he loved has gone,

He waits for the day, he goes home,

To be again, with everyone.

.

.

William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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[ Image used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/906549 ]

Poem on Image:  placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2015′

Gallery

“From The Shadows”

From The Shadows

There’s something in the night,

That crawls, there is,

Moaning and groaning,

Coming for the kids.

.

White eyes in the dark,

No pupil there in,

The dog won’t even bark,

For the fear in him.

.

It lives in the shadows,

From demons, was born,

From down in hell’s gallows,

No shape, nor form.

.

Like some ancient curse,

To squander your soul,

To quench a thirst,

That’s never been full.

.

.

William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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[ Image used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/867904 ]

Poem on Image:  placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2015′

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“I’ve Come”

I've  Come

The night’s no longer,
Nor is the day,
Of endless hunger,
Nor men astray.
For with a thunder,
God did say,
“No more plunder,
Nor evil ways.”

“I’ve come you see,
To put a stop
To mans disease,
Like days of Lot.
Men do tease,
With evil thought,
On bended knees,
They smite the rock.”

“Governments of death,
Nations of plutocracy,
Where evil nests,
Devouring democracy.
The people’s best,
Full of bureaucracy,
Never they rest,
In all their hypocrisy.”

“For lack of plenty,
The people starve,
Deprived of money,
Society marred.
What some think funny,
Leave others scarred,
Bees and honey,
Are forever barred.”

“Yes, you see,
With a hunger,
I’ve come to thee,
To cure my blunder.
You and me,
And all my wonder,
I take from thee,
And do so smother.”

And with his hand,
The night was no longer,
Nor was the day.

.
William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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[ Image used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/621511 ]

Poem on Image:  placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2014′ 

Gallery

“We Live In A Time”

"We Live In A Time"

“We Live In A Time”

.
Of great turmoil, and distress;

Of evil, and hatred,
Great horror, and regret;

Of,.. .

Dirty sands,
Empty lands,
Wicked hands,
And murderous bands;

Of,.. .

Evil works,
Deadly jerks,
Killing clerks,
While in the church;

Of,.. .

Hopeless whys,
Children’s sighs,
Government lies,
And mothers cries;

Of,.. .

Endless death,
That never rests,
Contentious threats,
The blood still wet.. .

We live in a time,
Of do nothing, and watch;

Of sadness, and crime,
And stupidity, un-thought.

.
William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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[ Image used:  pixabay.com/en/sunset-desert-dry-trees-sandy-soil-284213 ]

Poem on Image: placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2014′

“Bla, Bla, Bla,”.. .

"Bla, Bla, Bla,".. .

That’s all I feel anymore,
When thinking of what to write.
Words seem to escape me,
As I sit here in the night;

Beautiful Letters,
On the wings of words,
Soaring around me,
In an endless blur.

A desolate plain,
On this paper I see,
Has yet to form,
It‘s valleys and trees.

An idle pen,
Circles and lines,
Nothing but scribbles,
From in my mind.

When put to paper,
I sit in awe,
For what I see,
Is, “Bla, Bla, Bla,”.. .

.
William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

……………………………………………………………………………………

[ Image used:  pixabay.com/en/sunset-desert-dry-trees-sandy-soil-284213 ]

Poem on Image: placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2014′

Gallery

“And still,”.. .

"And still,".. .

So many regrets,
Of things I should have done,
Memories I can‘t forget,
Of our days, and then some.

Countless tears I’ve cried,
A heart without a clue.
Something inside me died,
The day I lost you.
No longer my bride,
Or to me be true.

The stars even wept,
As I watched you walk away.
Never a night I slept,
As my mind went astray.
Time no longer kept,
Nor the count of days decay.
I remember every step,
As I watched you walk away.

And still,.. .
As the moon turns blue,
The countless tears I’ll cry,
Remembering losing you.

.
William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

………………………………………………………………………….

[ Image used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/201019 ]

Poem on Image: placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2014′

Gallery

“Once There Was A Site”

"Once There Was A Site"

Once there was a light,
Such a beautiful ‘Site‘,
Where people would write,
Late into the night;

Writing about fights,
And men of might,
Of insect bites,
And fishing for pike;

Of stars so bright,
And birds in flight,
Of boots too tight,
While taking a hike;

And flying kites,
Reaching great heights,
Riding bikes,
And colors not white;

Of things in sight,
Plants with blight,
Of all that’s right,
And even a grip.

Yeah,.. .
Once there was a ‘Site’,
It’s light burned bright,
Where people would write,
Late into the night;

‘Twas a beautiful ‘Site’ indeed.

.
William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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[ Image used:  pixabay.com/en/writing-journal-paper-letter-427527 ]

Poem on Image: placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2014′

Gallery

“Hoppety, Dockety, Dickety, Toc!”

"Hoppety, Dockety, Dickety, Toc!"

Hoppety, dockety, dickety, toc,
Roaches, and mice, crawling on my clock.

Itchy, icky,
Nasty little creeps,
Crawling, slogging,
Finding things to eat.

In and around,
Up and down,
Watch those little boogers,
As they go to town.

Hoppety, dockety, dickety,
Toc!

.
William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

………………………………………………………………………………

[ Image used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/889889 ]

Poem on Image: placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2014′

Gallery

“Monster In My Closet !”

"Monster In My Closet !"

There’s a monster in my closet,
And he’s scary.
I think he wants my wallet,
Cause he’s staring.

I creep across the floor,
To get up near em’,
So I can shut the door,
And stop his glaring.

He’s really kind a big,
And big time hairy.
He could snap me like a twig,
While he is sneering.

The door is coming loose,
From all his tearing.
He’s got a real big tooth,
And silver earring.

I’m rolled up in a ball,
And really screaming.
My wife turns on the light,
and,.. .
“Babe!?.. . I was dreaming!”

.
William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

…………………………………………………………………..

[ Image used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/765337 ]

Poem on Image: placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2014′

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