Poems by Patricia Fleming

Time passes all so quickly,
Moments melting into years.
It's true, time waits for no one,
And the end is always near.

We live a life so tenuous,
So easily it's gone.
And no matter what we each endure,
Time keeps marching on.

We take refuge in the moment,
And we cling to every day.
We pretend it's all forever,
Just to keep the end at bay.

We hearken back to childhood,
When the world was filled with treasures,
And our lives and what the future held
Was beyond what we could measure.

When our family was our everything,
There was still no place like home.
And with our best friends by our sides,
We came into our own.

And though we took our private paths,
We all have kept in mind
That in life our greatest struggle
Is our battle against time.

Will we get to know what true love is?
Will we have the things we need?
Will we conquer all our greatest fears?
Will we fail or will we succeed?

And then as we grow older,
And the future shrinks away,
Our lives become more memories
And less about today.

We share our wisdom and our hope
With the children in our lives,
And say good-bye to those we loved,
Who once stood by our side.

But there's a peace in growing old,
As time becomes more dear.
And who we are and why we're here
Becomes so crystal clear.

And we see time is not the enemy,
But how that time was lived.
And if we took all that we could,
Or gave all that we could give.

For in our final hours,
As our time begins to wane.
The goodness that our soul's bestowed,
Is all that shall remain.

He grew up in a town where people were poor,
In a family quite wealthy with love.
He was raised by two parents who were stable but strict
And taught him to trust God above.

The days of his youth were like everyone else,
Filled with both good times and bad.
But he learned to look forward and follow his dreams
And be grateful for all that he had.

And then at 19, it was time to escape
From the shelter and safety of home.
So he went off to the Navy in search of himself
And to finally stand up on his own.

When tragedy struck and his ship was destroyed,
Torpedoed and lost to the sea,
He learned just how quickly his whole world could change
And how frightening and short life could be.

So when he returned to family and home,
He found where his future now lied,
And he studied and worked and had children,
With the love of his life by his side.
           
And the rest, as they say, is just history,
But my story all started with him.
He raised me and loved me and taught me what's right,
And I hold him forever within.

The man I've described is my father,
A man of whom I feel so proud.
He was loving, and honest, and decent,
And his humor brought sunshine through clouds.

And it's true that today he's no longer with me.
His laughter and hugs are now gone,
But my deep love for him remains in my heart,
And his memory forever lives on.

But I hope from the heavens he still could look down,
And I hope through the years he could see
Just how hard I have strived to be just like him,
So he could still feel proud of me.

Those things that meant the most to me
Are no longer in my life.
And those people most important
Have vanished now from sight.

Future hopes and longing dreams
Simply don't exist.
And that person who I used to be
Is someone I sadly miss.

Memories of my former life
Leave my heart in pain
And remind me of reality
And that everything must change.

This world can be so fickle.
One day you fade from all their minds.
You're not needed or acknowledged;
They just leave you far behind.

I've struggled through some desperate times,
Through raging storms and seas.
My life has been an uphill climb.
I didn't make it here with ease.

Old age has been a state I've earned.
It's a feat that I've survived.
I made mistakes but learned from them,
And I say that now with pride.

So where are my gold medals?
My name up there in lights?
I was not the smartest or the prettiest,
But I fought a darn good fight!

Where is all the grand applause
And shouts of "Way to go!"?
Where are all the kudos
That I feel that I am owed?

Then I will sing my praises,
Give myself a big high five!
You fought the fight quite valiantly,
And you're still well and quite alive.

You are someone with a heart of gold
And a soul that's kept its light.
You have loved and lost and sacrificed.
You weren't perfect, but you tried.

And I proclaim to all aged folks
Who have lived beyond four score,
You are truly Golden Heroes,
And may you survive a hundred more!

Before he crawled into his bed,
He prayed his soul to take.
Then curled up in the darkness,
And spent the night awake.

He dreaded the morning and all it would bring
But believed that it never could change.
For with the dawn of each new day,
That face in the mirror remained.

He longed to pull the covers up
And stay forever there.
And when the sun came creeping through,
He questioned if God even cared.

He grew weary from the struggle.
He longed to have one friend.
He wished they could accept him.
He just wanted to fit in.

But for him, school was a battlefield,
A place where he never felt safe.
And at times, he felt so much anger inside,
He worried how much more he could take.

He felt bruised and battered inside and out,
So he withdrew into himself.
He wanted to fight but didn't know how.
He wished that someone would help.

But he silently carried his hurt and his pain,
So ashamed that he acted so weak.
He tried not to cry and never complained.
He would take the abuse and retreat.

Sometimes he contemplated getting revenge.
Then some days he just wanted to hide.
Sometimes he thought he could kill everyone,
Then there were moments he wanted to die.

Every day he faced bullies, angry and mean.
They were always lurking out there.
They tried to destroy every ounce of esteem
And convinced him that nobody cared.

His life was a nightmare he had to endure,
And he wasn't alone in his pain.
He saw there were others who were different, like him,
And their torture and hurt was the same.

So is this the life that we wanted for them?
Should our children feel anger and fear?
And is this the legacy we'll leave behind,
Or should we save them while we are still here.

So instead of us arguing after the fact
And taking a stand that's too late,
We must teach them the value of kindness
And that differences should be embraced.

That the human spirit can be fragile and weak.
It can break in the blink of an eye.
And we must always respect others' dignity,
Or our humanity can't hope to survive.

The days of their youth remain in their hearts
And will color their future ahead.
So let's help them create a warm, welcome place,
Instead of a world filled with dread.

Seven AM and I sat at the light,
Watching the train chugging by.
A day like the rest, on the way to my job,
Just routine with no feeling inside.

The morning was frigid and snowy,
Just thinking how cold he must be.
But there I could see him wrapped up on the stoop,
In that blanket he found on the street.

That cold, concrete stoop, at that old, empty store,
The place that for years he called home.
He sat there each day, never meeting your eyes,
Just contented to be left alone.

The weeds by the tracks were his bathroom,
His food was a bottle of wine.
His clothes were all dirty and tattered.
He was drunk or passed out all the time.

To see him you'd think he was no one.
He was barely a man anymore.
A failure to the ones who once loved him,
And a burden to the rest of the world.

But those who once knew him in the days long gone by
Would tell you how wrong you would be.
For in fact, it's quite true that this lost, broken soul
Was once just like you and like me.

He woke up every morning in a home of his own
That he shared with his son and his wife.
He worked every day as a painter by trade
And thanked God every night for his life.

People who watched him admired his ways.
He was caring and decent and good.
He worked harder than most to provide for his son,
And for neighbors he did what he could.

Life was a struggle, and times could be bad,
But he always found strength to go on.
He wanted the best for the people he loved,
Never dreaming that soon they'd be gone.

It happened in winter on a dark, snowy day,
In a storm that had moved in quite fast
That his wife ventured forth to pick up their son,
And neither survived when they crashed.

From the day they were buried his friends rallied round,
But he was lost despite how much they tried.
And even today when they speak of him still,
They say it's as if they all died.

And when I last sat at that light, by that stoop,
I saw he was no longer there.
The store still sat empty and was now boarded up,
And I wondered if anyone cared.

But later I learned on that stoop where he lived,
That place that he once made his home
He too passed away on one cold winter's day,
Long forgotten and left quite alone.

So should you pass by a lost soul such as this,
Be careful how harshly you judge him.
For you can't ever know how loved he once was,
Or how valued his life may have been.