Okay, I wanna pick up on my writeing so why not a better way to do it than in the wonderful form of poetry? Yes I do intend to update this weekly and add a new poem every week. I won't unless somthing bad is goin' down so I do intend to be serious about this. Anyway to the poem.

Lost love:
In the world today
There isn't much to say
For the people with their stone faces
And enclosed hearts
No more conversing with strangers
For they are too busy
Or they will think lesser of thee
Every one has their aim
Time taken
No money to gain
To off and away they must be
For in a world today it is money, money, money
Yet this may be hypocritical of me
For I also 'cassionaly do think of my money.

People try to shear their love
Yet in today's sociaty
There is lost love
It dosn't have to be romatic
Just a simple conversation
Somthing so small
Should be no trouble at all

It is a pity
That somthing so simple
Yet so important
Is lost today
No time for the old
No time for the lone stranger
No time, for nothing at all

Besides money, family and friends.
That is what we've been reduced to.
And a pity it is for we should be better than this
To think that such minor love is useless
The elderly sit and stare
Not making any money what so ever.
If they call you for nothing more but a small conversation.
You will think of them as weird or odd.
Yet what is soo wrong with somthing like that?
A simple conversation
A simple person
NOthing should go wrong

Yet with all the negitivity imbedded in people
The percaution is to leave them alone
Even when they ask for you
To leave them so you do not risk your self
Or your money.
Yet all they wanted
Was to share some love with a stranger
Not sexual or romantic
Just somthing simple as a small conversation
Nothing too wrong with that
So it seems to me at least.

Yet others seem to think oh so differently
A pity it is
A pity it shall be
When the elderly are no where to be seen of that generation
And all we see
Are the stone faces
Same as those of our youth
Only with deeper intensity
And the sagging skin

Then love will be somthing
Oh so small
It shall only be used for romatic reasons
Then I shall know
That love shall be bled out of the world
Out of the human consience...