I need someone to care.
A person who will always be there.
Someone who won’t judge me,
But be understanding in all they see.
Someone who will love me,
My good and my bad and won’t flee.
I need someone to care.
A person who will always be there.
K. Aldaya, 4/10/02
Picture: Artist Unknown; https://lantanagurl.files.wordpress.com/2012/05/giving-love-away.jpg
Life then death, that’s how it goes.
Time slips by and no one knows,
How to slow it.
How to pause it.
How to stop it.
Life ticks away with every breath and second.
Listen and you’ll hear it’s rhythm and beckon.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock it goes.
Going, going, going…it goes.
The sands of the hourglass fall swiftly down,
Down, down,
And thus so do we down into the ground.
Time keeps on going forever and more,
Bringing us stranded on death’s open shore.
Life then death. That’s how it goes.
Listen to the sound that no one knows,
How to slow.
How to pause.
How to stop.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock it goes.
How to stop it? No one knows.
So it goes, goes, goes, goes.
Goes, goes, goes.
K. Aldaya, 8/19/02
Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://ak0.picdn.net/shutterstock/videos/1877860/preview/stock-footage-extreme-close-up-sands-move-through-hour-glass.jpg
In the dark depths of night.
My mind wanders tonight,
To a place where none can reach, without the candles dying light.
In the cold arena of night,
My thoughts take flight,
To a place that few know of where tears reduce sight.
In the starry-skied night,
My sadness gains height,
To a place that’s near, but seems so far,
Where things are set right…,
If only for the night.
K. Aldaya, 4/02
Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AdMxt7jNFO0/TnSim1rXqiI/AAAAAAAAAA4/366td3d6Jus/s1600/P9171561.JPG
In each heart there lie fears,
Which cover us with many tears.
Fears that are real or maybe not,
Fears we feel must be fought.
Fears that can burden our lives,
And break us down in size.
Fears that overpower some,
And leave them feeling cold and numb.
K. Aldaya, 4/10/02
Picture: Artist Unknown; http://images.sciencedaily.com/2013/02/130218102914-large.jpg
Who are these things that live among us?
In the darkness. In the shadows.
Among the muss.
Are they good or are they bad?
Are they happy or are they sad?
Do they see us as we see them?
As mist. As emotions. As a transparent gem?
Are they like us with feelings and emotions?
Are they allowed to have such notions?
Who are these things that live among us?
In the darkness. In the shadows. In the hallways.
Near the dadoes. In the attics. In the basements.
In rooms toying with the casements.
Are they alone or are they in teams,
Or could they be the strangers that lurk in our dreams?
K. Aldaya, 4/18/02
Picture: Taken On September 19, 1936 by Captain Hubert C. Provand for Country Life Magazine; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Brown_lady.jpg
My Soul is a Lock Without a Key 
