Poem By Barry Van Allen
I am afflicted with those memories,
sometimes, I'm glad that I have them,
sometimes, I feel cursed that they are me,
sometimes , I'm not sure how I feel,
... all I know is that I do.
The easy things are often times the hardest,
Sometimes it does not feel right,
but, many times there's nothing else,
too many times, there is only what is there.
I am addicted to the freedom.
to wander on the roads,
to discover where they lead,
even though I know,
that I've been there before,
... It is different now.
That was a different time and place,
those moments make a difference,
timing is almost everything,
for a man like me.
A given place is almost static,
and most people are erratic,
but, what happens in a place - - -
at any given time, to any group,
of people, can be so damn dynamic:
- - - then everything is changed!
I am afflicted with imagination,
it would be worse if I had none...
you know... and I know ...
that too many just go through the motions,
they start at number one ...
and are pretty much all done at number four!
It kind of makes me wonder,
how they know that there is number six,
they can't imagine what tomorrow is
or remember yesterday!
They are not afflicted with ambition,
they just live from day to day,
I guess that there is something to be said for that,
BUT, I'm not here to say it!
I am afflicted, and I know it,
you will find no contradiction here,
I am no shinning knight,
'cause after all is said and done,
... I am afflicted with my own life!