Days of Wine and Roses
They are not long, the weeping and laughter,
Love, desire and hate.
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.
They are not long,
The days of wine and roses.
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while,
Then closes within a dream.
Ernest Dowson
Hopefully the above is close.
How Heavy The Days
How heavy the days are.
There's not a fire that can warm me,
Not a sun to laugh with me,
Everything bare,
Everything cold and merciless,
And even the beloved, clear
Stars look desolately down,
Since I learned in my heart that
Love can die.
Hermann Hesse
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This is an Adult Only blog. Its about my life, the search for liberty and the occasional pursuit of happiness. Its about how I have lived with the fog of depression and schizophrenia and the emptiness, the deadness of poverty. Its about seeking beauty through stories, poems and photographs when I could to pierce the fog, and using the Internet to share the beauty I have found, some of the pain and add my rantings as well, at least until the meds kick in.
Me
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All rights reserved, © 2007 by Robin Hall
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