Candle With A Flickering Faint Flame

The sunlight is caressing bright red avenue roses but I'm gloomy and preoccupied meditating the many deaths we experience in life, not just the funeral home and the cemetery, but divorce, job loss, friends moving cross country or simply abandoning a mutual history. Most of the evening is a hazy blur of depression more staggering than bottles of Johnny Walker Red, memories more lethal than drug addiction or heart disease; have you ever sat in a room of friends and refused to speak? been next to someone but more distant than the freeway from the middle of the ocean? Sometimes we live like a dictionary of immense words unable to form sentences or connect ideas, sometimes we have to face failure before efforts ever materialize, but nothing hurts me more than to face mirrors or the tears in a woman's eyes when there is n nothing left to hope for.