Through the field I See

A field of green grass awaits me.
I have been on this grass before and it brought suffering and
anguish.
I wait for the pure colors of pink and red to cover all of the
envious grass.
In this field of colors I have not experienced.
Many a people, hand in hand, take this path of red and pink.
Through many a people take the field of grass choosing the
poison of which they will drink.

poem by Stephen Howard
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Days of My Life

Greater do I feel today, above all other days,
Yet not one person sees me.
Normal do I feel today, like the rest of the days,
Yet not one person sees me.
Lesser do I feel today, for the rest of my days,
Yet not one person sees me.

Greater do I feel today, above all other days,
Yet not one person hears me.
Normal do I feel today, like the rest of the days,
Yet not one person hears me.
Lesser do I feel today, for the rest of my days.
Yet not one person hears me.

Greater do I feel today, above all other days,
Yet not one person knows me.
Normal do I feel today, like the rest of the days,
Yet not one person knows me.
Lesser do I feel today, for the rest of my days,
Yet not one person knows me.

poem by Stephen Howard
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The Eve of My Death

The eve of my death, a baby was born, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, a baby took her first stumbling steps, and this kept me
alive.
The eve of my death, a school bus filled with laughing children drove away,
and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, I looked out my window to see my child be swept
away to prom, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, my baby, my child reached out her hand to accept her
diploma, she is not a baby or a child any more, and this kept me alive.
The eve of my death, I walked with my daughter down the isle, and this kept
me alive.
The eve of my death, I held my new born grandson in my arms, and this kept
me alive.
The day of my death, I feel my grandson's tears hit me like a cool spring rain,
I see his father behind a podium an inch away from tears, I feel the
flowers on the casket that holds the only thing that keeps me alive.

poem by Stephen Howard
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