WHY DID YOU NOT RUN

Like thunder, explosions from different sites,

Their weapons loaded, death was in their eyes.

You saw them marching in the distance my friend,

Closing in on you were those whom did not know you.

Did they leave you there alone, turn their backs and go,

Were the men with you smarter, were they pleading with you?

It should not have been this way, you were not left to die,

No sense can ever be made of this tragedy as I wonder why.

My friend, why did you not run as were coming an army of guns,

As I was told you must retreat, why did you remain and wait?

I received the news from one at my door that you were no more,

The words I heard were that you were brave and a hero,

This I would like to believe as you died needlessly.

Keith Garrett

WHY ARE THEY PUT AWAY

Discarded, locked away as if they matter no more,

Their lives are precious, are they valued as once before.

At times not anymore, they were at a time young and full of life,

Listened to and heard by those around, family and friends maybe gone.

It just might do us all good to think about growing old but not alone,

Would we want to be cast away, said goodbye to and put away one day.

Why are they put away, Do they become useless or a burden to society.?

It’s forgotten that wisdom and much still to offer lives inside them, they matter.

The day will soon enough appear when we will become they, don’t put us away,

Why are they put away, they decay when life is taken from them, they speak so listen carefully.

Keith Garrett

WHILE WE SLUMBER

In the dark of night, quiet, all things sit still,

Do they, while we slumber is all quiet and still.

What goes on while we dream, Is the house the same,

Are we safe with our eyes closed, does something watch.

What noises, creeks, or anything live within the silence,

when we’re asleep what is it we do not see, things of everyday.

The doors do not move just as the chairs remain in place,

We might think the house comes to life in our wondering minds.

How can we truly know while we slumber the happenings around us,

Fore we must sleep or forever dream with one eye open to the darkness.

While we slumber, we should not fear or have to wonder.

Keith Garrett

WHICH IS THE ROAD TO HEAVEN

Dear lord, I’m told of a man, his name is Don Yost, I’m sure you know,

Who he is I do not know, I’m sending many prayers for him to you.

The greatest thing that could be would if a miracle comes his way,

Your plan is not known, at this time it appears that he’ll be making a journey to you.

There are those whom love him very much, a certain one cries inside,

Why is it that a life must be taken so soon, not a day goes by without a tear in an eye.

He’s scared, you know of his daily pain, if it’s not in your plan for him to stay,

I’ll ask of you now, please ease his pain, comfort him through his fear.

When the time comes give him strength and all who love him,

Sit at his side with your hand placed upon him, love him.

Let the angels guide, show him which is the road to heaven.

Keith Garrett

WHERE WOULD WE GO?

The world is changing faster than ever, so fast,

In one hundred years faster than before our world began.

It does not grow or get bigger as more people and things are created,

We can’t escape what we have done between the good and bad.

Where would we go when there is no more room to roam,

Run fast and run far to nowhere in panicked crowds of doom.

Everything is closing in with no place to hide, land and sky,

Where would we go if ever anger grows to a point of no return.

The changing environment is a chain reaction throughout the lands,

When will we worry that we are at natures mercy, food supplies of no control.

Where would we go when there is nowhere to go?

Keith Garrett

At the age of ten, yes! It was nineteen seventy two, I remember well,

The feeling Is still fresh Inside as they were the greatest team of all.

Each day as I came home from school I would check the paper to see

If a game was on t.v. or the radio, I was excited either way.

I had a poster of the team on my wall, today I have a collectors picture

Of that same team, the nineteen seventy two Lakers were for me a dream.

That team with the greatness of a Jerry West,” Mr. Clutch’ was so awesome,

It took more than twenty years before and I never thought anyone would

Break their record of going sixty nine and thirteen, A fantastic accomplishment.

Their thirty three game win streak was awesome that year along with a championship,

Bill Sharman was one of the greatest coaches In NBA history, over forty years ago.

Wilt the stilt Chamberlain, one of the greatest scorers and defensive players,

With West and Gail “Stumpy” Goodrich bringing the ball up the court was the best.

Elgin Baylor another great forward In the hall of fame, part of that amazing team,

Happy Hairston I remember as a forward with great rebounding skills, so long ago.

A shot blocker and great moving down the floor on the fast break, Wilt for the slam dunk,

Keith Erickson number twenty four, a member of that Lakers team once upon a time.

Pat Riley and Flynn Robinson off the bench playing defense and points scored when needed,

Two basketball players whom were a big part of that nineteen seventy two dream team.

Think back to a player, Connie Hawkins, known as the Hawk as he soared to the basket,

The fabulous Forum as It was known to be, the house that Jack built, Chick Hearn would say.

The nineteen seventy two Los Angeles Lakers took on and battled the New York Knicks for

The NBA championship and won, a team of greats In an era of great things and accomplishments.

Where were you In 1972,? I was a boy who dreamed of heroes and while I listened to them on the

Radio because It wasn’t televised It was Chick Hearn who brought It all to life, I saw everything.

My stepfather was there and had the greatest time that I wanted but He had to go with a client,

I was disappointed but I listened to the game on the radio, what a great time back then.

When I woke up In the morning he was gone to work but there was a book, laker pennant, and a

Basketball that I will never forget, Where were you In 1972,? I was watching from my mind the

Lakers win the championship and as I dreamed and wished I was down there on that floor I

Then drifted off to a peaceful sleep, this Is to you the great Lakers of 72, where were you In 1972.?

Keith Garrett

WHERE WENT MY PURPOSE

Lost at times, feelings of despair and worthlessness,

My existence appears meaningless at this point in time.

Work has always been my everyday, a year now gone away,

I thought I had found a place, an escape from that which has faded.

A peaceful, mysterious, world of writing where I am the guide,

Working out in my yard, a piece of land of solitude, I thought.

That’s not who I am, rest and relaxation is good for the moment,

Roaming the land by foot, wandering great distances in thought.

Listening in my head to words and instruments of beautiful music,

Many things, hobbies or projects to fill my days while I dream away.

My purpose in life, where did it go, am I thinking and seeing the wrong way,

My working days that for now and maybe forever have gone away,

Was that it or is my purpose around me everyday, my life in every way.

Keith Garrett

WHERE THE WIND BLOWS

Where does the wind go when it’s no longer here,

Does it travel to far off places, will the same wind reappear.?

If it blows across the ocean has it a plan of its own,

Are their many different winds, who would know.

It passes us by in an instance of time,

Cool or warm, soft it may feel,

Wicked with speed, fierce it may be.

Where the wind blows is a mystery only god knows,

Beyond the clouds, across the mountains it flows.

It has not a face as it makes itself known,

Since the beginning of time, where does the wind blow.?

Where the wind blows, many think they know,

From long ago many souls have followed and never

Have seen where it goes, where the wind blows.

Keith Garrett

WHEN YOU WERE THERE

THEN YOU WERE NOT

I see you In the Spring as the flowers start to bloom,

You are my mother as the sun Is shining upon you,

This would be our Spring, A daughters love would be.

Summer sun so high In the sky, heat lives In the night,

Time spent together, playing In the sand at the beach,

Your son I am, young, as for you I’ll never change from today.

September late, Fall shows the start of Its most beautiful face,

The shadows appear differently as soon Thanksgiving seems thankless,

When you were there a smile I remember and think of, things you would say.

Comes Winter with a chill, I love you mother, please don’t make me say goodbye,

The snow begins to fall, It was you whom did see It, you awoke me with a surprise,

A night ride with you on a horse through the snow to a place I’ll not forget with you.

When you were there I had a mother whom showed much love and care for a family,

Then you were not, where you went those whom love you know, you were here, this is so.

Keith Garrett