definately

Yay , Thank You for Accepting !!!!!!!!! Have a great Week

I have a vhs tape of that that has been played so many times it rattles lol

Angel in my mind She lives in my tortured mindwaiting patiently till she can dance in my dreamsholding my headin her loving hands eyes piercing Full red lips, bright white teeth a single tear caresses her cheekShe seesThe pain insideI close my eyesShe’s still right there with her silent stareHolding my face in her loving hands.I’ve been down this road beforeWhy did I think anyone would stayI’m just building up memories for my nursing home days.Shattered life empty dreamsLiving in my tortured mindWondering when I lose her tooI’m just building up dreams for when my memories are goneNothing to offer nothing to lose.I’m trying to get to my nursing home days.Silent lady on a hill of greenKnows not one thing about my daysBuilding up dreams for my nursing home days.Storing up memories for my nursing home days“Sounds like a load of old Tosh to me! ”Empty are my nursing home days.Philosopher, poet, warrior, old man, building memories for my nursing home days. Tony Fiona

A Perfect MomentBeautiful eyes open across a pillow top,It seems for this moment time will stop,The earth slows and sounds wane,A frozen moment without stain.Your body close to mine,Our hearts beat in time,With a smile of simple pleasure,This moment should last forever.Some say perfection is unattainableFor most things that's explainable,But in your arms and with your heart's affectionI have found a brief moment of perfection.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings The free bird leapson the back of the winand floats downstreamtill the current endsand dips his wingsin the orange sun raysand dares to claim the sky.But a bird that stalksdown his narrow cagecan seldom see throughhis bars of ragehis wings are clipped andhis feet are tiedso he opens his throat to sing.The caged bird singswith fearful trillof the things unknownbut longed for stilland is tune is heardon the distant hillfor the caged birdsings of freedomThe free bird thinks of another breezean the trade winds soft through the sighing treesand the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawnand he names the sky his own.But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreamshis shadow shouts on a nightmare screamhis wings are clipped and his feet are tiedso he opens his throat to singThe caged bird singswith a fearful trillof things unknownbut longed for stilland his tune is heardon the distant hillfor the caged birdsings of freedom. Maya Angelou