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Shoes by John Taylor February 14, 2007 time on my hands I stand and look for a long time at their rooms just stand there and look trying very hard to hear them trying to recall their voices praying never to forget and then I remember how the house was once full of sounds their lives running at full speed and I am troubled when I think that I once begged for silence bedrooms full of things once brought to life now just lie there dolls lay limp guitar strings losing tune a masters hand no longer commands them bed covers grow dustier each day a house needs people to be a home requires love and the smell of supper dirty dishes in the sink lights left on how I miss a pair of shoes on the stairs needing to be brought to a room About the author: Not much really... started writing after a divorce as a way to vent. I read a few to very close friends and they liked them. They said I had a way to say things they had thought of too. So I have written about 150 poems over about ten years or so. I will write for many months then not write for years. That tends to get bad reviews from those same friends. I am a airplane mechanic by training. But have been in machine tools for manufacturing for most of these last 15-20 years. Always loved english in high school. I have a personal library of over 300 books. Mostly biography and english lit. thanks for reading my stuff |
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