"Poetry & Rhymes" by William Hancock

Posts tagged “Loss

“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.

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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.

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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?

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Lingering, in his memories,

He looks towards a photograph,

Of an orchard full of apple trees,

A group of family as they laughed.

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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.

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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.

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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′

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“3:AM”

3 AM

It’s three A M,
So early now,
I feel the chill.

As morning comes,
A day begins,
It’s so surreal.

Still the light,
Seeing it there
On window sill,

Has yet moved on,
Leaving me here
To await what’s real.

Moments of truth,
Glimpses of past,
As night stands still.

Still no sleep,
Has gifted me,
This night does steal.

This emptiness,
From yesterday past,
This hole to fill.

I raise my fist,
In rage this night,
Of life’s ordeal.

I scream at you,
As morning comes,
And night is still.

It’s three A M,
And still I moan,
With things I feel.

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William Hancock © All Rights Reserved
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[ Image used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/634092 ]

Poem on Image:  placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2013′


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“Missing You”

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I miss you in the morning,
When I first wake up.
I miss you as I sit here,
With my coffee cup.

I miss you while I’m walking
Hand in hand as we did.
I miss you at the park,
I do so remember when.

I miss you while I’m working,
And that phone call at lunch.
I miss the I love you,
Yes, a whole, whole bunch.

I miss you when I’m driving,
Just anywhere, it don’t matter.
I miss you still sitting there,
Carrying on with all your chatter.

I miss you in the evening,
When I’m thinking what to watch.
I miss you flipping channels,
As you did a whole lot.

I miss how you touched me,
And the smell of your hair.
I miss the way you felt,
As though your still there.

I miss you most of all,
In the middle of the night.
I miss you reaching over,
And holding me so tight.

God, I miss you so much,
And sometimes all I do is cry.
This missing you is so hard baby,
I never really got to say goodbye.

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William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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“When I Was A Little Boy”

When I Was A Little Boy

When I was a little boy,
I couldn’t wait to be grown up.
No one telling me what to do,
And I could drive a real truck.

I wish that I was young again,
Now that I’ve grown older.
When I still believed in fairy tails,
Before life got so much colder.

No one ever prepares us,
For what truly lies ahead.
When those you love are gone,
And your all that’s left instead.

We spin, and we weave,
Like tomorrow will never come.
Never truly are we ready,
Not till all is said and done.

Our memories are all we have,
And photographs of the past.
The happy times, and the sad ones,
Finally realizing nothing lasts.

Yes, when I was a little boy,
I couldn’t wait to be grown up.
And living as a young man,
How could I have had such luck?

And now that I’m older,
I miss my little truck.. .

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William Hancock © All Rights Reserved

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[ Image used:  www.morguefile.com/archive/display/685430 ]

Poem on Image:  placed by; written by  William Hancock © 2013′


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“Today Is A Dream”

Today Is A Dream

“Today Is A Dream” ( Tomorrow? )

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It’s Something Tomorrow We’ll Forge;
Today, It’s Here,
Tomorrow Is Gone,
And Yesterday,. . . “Has Only Begun!”

Love Is Really A Dream,
Wishful Thinking Of The Heart,
Something If We Try Hard Enough Is Real!

I’ve Loved,
I’ve Dreamed And Lost,
I’d Never Give It Up For Anything!

To Feel The Things I’ve Felt,
To Dream The Dreams I’ve Dreamed,
To Be With That Someone That Made Me Alive!

Tomorrow Is Still Yet To Be,
Something Waiting Inside Of Us,
To Come Alive With Every Breath,
A Dance Yet Not Danced,. . . “Or Yet Felt!”

To Feel Is.. . . . .

Capture Cynthia Gail Lewis-Hancock [ 6/1/1955 – 10/20/2012 ]

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William Hancock – 2013′ © All Rights Reserved