To ponder of past times,
Wondering of missed signs.
What use is it now,
Thinking what time would allow?
Some bridges are burned,
Hard lessons to be learned.
Missed connections of love,
Never to be taken for granted of.
It never seems enough,
Life always seems tough.
Regret captures all time,
Present, forward, and rewind.
I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out... View more posts
