I have heard all kinds of stories about telling employers about MS and I really don't know what the answer is. I am a private person, but I have found support by talking to fellow MSrs in the community.
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The Way We Used To Be
How come we can't talk the way we used to do
Nothing seems to be the same
Have we forgotten all the things we knew
Was it you or I who changed
We got to find the answer, let the secrets fly
Enough of telling stories and our well meaning lies
Things don't seem to be the same no matter how I tried
There's no rhythm to the rain
Wind still whispers, through the leaves on high
But they no longer sing your name
We got to find the answer, let the secrets fly
Enough of telling stories and our well meaning lies
We got to try to build what we had in the past
Trying's half the battle if we lose it we can't last
I heard myself just say the things I could never say before
And listen to the rhythm, of the rain
Wind just whispered through the leaves on high
And I thought I heard them sing your name
We got to find the answer, let the secrets fly
Enough of telling stories and our well meaning lies
We got to try to build what we had in the past
Trying's half the battle if we lose it we can't last
I heard myself just say the things I could never say before
And listen to the rhythm of the rain
Wind just whispered through the leaves on high
And I thought I heard them sing your name
And I thought I heard them sing your name
song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Hero Is A Well Known Local
The one who is hailed by the masses will never be a hero to you
Your hero is a quiet achiever to his dedications he's true
An honest and a hard working person and one of high integrity
You have placed him on a pedestal to you there's none greater than he.
Your hero is a well known local and in his work he takes great pride
He is admired and respected by many but he'll never be known far and wide
He's one who leads by good example one to help you out if he could
And for the local community he is one who has done so much good.
He is such a down to earth person and none more hard working than he
One who derives much satisfaction in each sporting local victory
A generous and a likeable fellow and a familiar face of the Town
He's happy to be a well known local and he does not yearn for World-wide renown.
I do like your sort of a hero a person that you do know well
Of any huge business adventures he does not have stories to tell
When you say you'll follow in his footsteps you are walking on solid ground
Why look up to a World renowned hero when there's a local hero to be found.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Private Eye
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a mother
Ive got a private eye to find out where you go
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a lover
Ive got a private eye to tell me what you know
You really should tread much more careful
Or youre going to get a stareful from my private eye
Ive got a private eye to search the seas and skies
Ive got a private eye to follow you around
Ive got a private eye to tear off your disguise
Ive got a private eye to make you look just like a clown
You really should...
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a mother...
It nearly stopped my heart from beating
When I found out you were meeting my private eye
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Private Eye
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a mother
Ive got a private eye to find out where you go
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a lover
Ive got a private eye to tell me what you know
You really should tread much more careful
Or youre going to get a stareful from my private eye
Ive got a private eye to search the seas and skies
Ive got a private eye to follow you around
Ive got a private eye to tear off your disguise
Ive got a private eye to make you look just like a clown
You really should...
Ive got a private eye to see if youve a mother...
It nearly stopped my heart from beating
When I found out you were meeting my private eye
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(The) Way We Used To
Written by - Jim Croce
How come we can't talk the way we used to do
Nothin' seems to be the same
Have we forgotten all the things we knew
Was it you or I who changed
Chorus:
We've got to find the answer
Let the secrets fly
Enough of telling stories and our well meaning lies
Things don't seem to be the same no matter how I try
There's no rhythm to the rain
Wind still whispers through the leaves on high
But they no longer sing your name
Chorus
We've got to try to build what we had in the past
Tryin's half the battle if we lose it we can't last
Heard myself just say the things I could never say before
And listened to the rhythm of the rain
Wind just whispered through the leaves on high
And I though I heard them sing your name
We've got to find the answer
Let the secrets fly
Enough of telling stories and our well meaning lies
We've got to try to build what we had in the past
Tryin's half the battle if we lose it we can't last
Heard myself just say the things I could never say before
And listened to the rhythm of the rain
Wind just whispered through the leaves on high
And I though I heard them sing your name
And I though I heard them sing your name
song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Now, people when I say that look at me and say, 'What are you talking about, Joe? You're telling me we have to go spend money to keep from going bankrupt?'. The answer is yes, that's what I'm telling you.
Keep your private life private. Be open to suggestions from different people. And just be nice. I have heard stories about people who are just plain rude to the press or fans.
quote by Michelle Trachtenberg
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Football A Way Of Life
Being a football fan is a way of life
it is constantly on one's mind
your thinking about the next match
while going about the daily grind.
Your talking about great goals
and a brilliant player from the past
telling anyone who's listening
that he was skilful and he was fast.
Your living and breathing football
you dream of it in your sleep
even though the team you support
can make you angry and make you weep.
You meet up with fellow football fans
in the pub before the big match
one group of like minded people
talking about football over pints and a batch.
Football on a Saturday is all that matters
nothing else can stand in it's way
all of life's worries are put on hold
while the football fan watches his team play.
poem by Kevin Halls
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On The Road To Find Out
Well I left my happy home to see what I could find out
I left my folk and friends with the aim to clear my mind out
Well I hit the rowdy road and many kinds I met there
Many stories told me of the way to get there
So on and on I go, the seconds tick the time out
Theres so much left to know, and Im on the road to find out
Well in the end Ill know, but on the way I wonder
Through descending snow, and through the frost and thunder
Well, I listen to the wind come howl, telling me I have to hurry
I listen to the robins song saying not to worry
So on and on I go, the seconds tick the time out
Theres so much left to know, and Im on the road to findout
Then I found myself alone, hopin someone would miss me
Thinking about my home, and the last woman to kiss me, kiss me
But sometimes you have to moan when nothing seems to suit yer
But nevertheless you know youre locked towards the future
So on and on you go, the seconds tick the time out
Theres so much left to know, and Im on the road to findout
Then I found my head one day when I wasnt even trying
And here I have to say, cause there is no use in lying, lying
Yes the answer lies within, so why not take a look now?
Kick out the devils sin, pick up, pick up a good book now
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why I write
I used to feel, like a pain is in my heart.
When without saying a word, u depart
Here I m alone, remembering our memories
Had so much left to tell you my life stories.
As an alternative of you I started talking to myself
Not that good idea but still it was little relief
Not for long that idea worked, if It was too much miss of your.
Thought of writing my felling so I took a pen and paper.
Started writing stories n poems about my felling
And things that I had always thought of telling.
I feel I m near to you and with you I m talking
That's why I write. Even if my writings are not good and boring..
poem by Sushanta Rokka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Memory is the way we keep telling ourselves our stories - and telling other people a somewhat different version of our stories.
quote by Alice Munro
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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School-Community
School is a community which surrounds you most
A place where teachers seem somewhat like ghosts
Believing that it’s a chance for new friends
But the community also introduces new ends
You believe that you yourself can never be true
To reside into acting into someone that isn't you
The school community soon becoming fake
Inside, many people's hearts begin to ache
We believe in not showing our true selves
The community telling to dig deep in ourselves
Slowly we start believing that freedom is forbidden
But does school truly want ourselves to remain hidden?
Friendships can lead to you being cut down
We sometimes wish this community wasn't around
But then we realise not to defy the real world
And that the real truth is being unfurled
This community teaches us to stand on our own feet
And without this test we shall still remain incomplete
The teachings is something that no one seems to share
In the real world these are teachings we'll need out there
School is a place where there are things we must learn
Otherwise the community outside will cause us to return
The community outside is the place we are yearning
But this community is the place we are still learning…
poem by Silly Artist
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We have all known the long loneliness, and we have found that the answer is community.
quote by Dorothy Day
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Kinds Of Time
The clocks running down
the teams losing ground
to the opposing defense
the young quarterback
waits for the snap
when suddenly it all starts to make sense
he's got all kinds of time
he's got all kinds of time
all kinds of time
he's got all kinds of time
all kinds of time
he takes a step back
he's under attack
but he knows that no one can touch him now
he seems so at ease
a strange inner peace
its all that he's feeling somehow
he's got all kinds of time
he's got all kinds of time
all kinds of time
he's got all kinds of time
all kinds of time
he thinks of his mother
he thinks of his bride to be
he thinks of his father
his two younger brothers
gathered around the wide screen t.v.
he looks to the left
he looks to the right
and there in a golden ray of light
and there his open man
just like he planned
the world is his tonight
he's got all kinds of time
he's got all kinds of time
all kinds of time
he's got all kinds of time
all kinds of time
song performed by by Fountains Of Wayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Play On Love
Now when you open your mouth, what comes out
Whats the first word, whats the first line?
When you open your mouth and love comes out
Then you know, you just sang the clear line
Ive heard people say it a thousand times
In a thousand different ways
Ive heard people play it a thousand times
And they know, they know thats the only way
To play.
You got to
Play on love
Play on love
Play on love
Play on love.
Now are you talking about what it is you know
Or just repeating what it was you heard
Someone told you just exactly what to say
And you know, you know thats only one set
Of words
You got to play on love.
Ive heard people say it a thousand times
In a thousand different ways
Ive heard people play it a thousand times
And they know thats the only way to play
You been a reading it without living it
Now thats the golden prison we can always find
Living in stories and living in books or
We can live and leave all the stories behind.
Its up to you and its up to me
Come down yelling timber through the
Burning trees
Whos been telling you about perfection
And how did he get in here, thats the question.
He mustve
Played on love
Played on love
Played on love
Played on love.
Ive heard people say it a thousand times....
You got to
Play on love
Play on love
Play on love
Play on love.
Reading it without living it...
You got to
Play on love
Play on love
Play on love
Play on love.
song performed by by Jefferson Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stories
Through every window, we look out
what we see on the other side
holds many stories waiting to unfold.
Stories of great achievements
within someone’s life.
Stories of gathering love
found with in open arms.
Stories of perusing heartaches
where someone has gone away.
Stories a million fold
that surround every living thing.
Stories we are not aware of,
but happen before our eyes.
Stories to share with all
from those who can see them unfold.
The next time you look out a window
try and see what is really there,
the stories that are everywhere.
26 July 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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She Takes
She takes one step back
And falls to the ground
Can not seem to stop laughing
Joking they say to all she has done
Not nearly what she sees tonight
All kinds of time she says
All kinds of time
She has all kinds of time
Drinking with despair they take her down
Throwing it all around
She has no money to spare
As she ask for help from her friends
All kinds of time he says
All kinds of time
He has all kinds of time
Writing it all for him to see
The way he use to be
No father around as she passes out
From not sleeping she's been wishing
All kinds of time they say
All kinds of time
All kinds of time to break her down
Nothing around as she picks herself up
In a place that has no name
Came on a bus with a bottle
She's been drinking
She settles down with no help
Can't remember the last night she felt sound
All kinds of time she says
All kinds of time
She has all kinds of time
poem by Sara Pounds
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Anybody who has listened to certain kinds of music, or read certain kinds of poetry, or heard certain kinds of performances on the concertina, will admit that even suicide has its brighter aspects.
Stephen Leacock in 1912
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was inlove with no saviours,
I was inlove with no saviours,
I was inlove with no saviours,
I was inlove with the wrong person,
I was inlove with what is mercy within me and Immaturity,
I can see with my eyes,
That I was deceived,
Before living on earth,
I realised it's hellish down here,
Most cannot see any concept of love,
I was inlove with no redemption,
My idiocy is capturing me with Immaturity,
I was wrong for falling in love with wrong person,
I found no redemption,
I found no love,
Just telling Fairy Tale's,
Here that I was inlove with no teacher,
But a learner,
I was all talking Fairy Tale's,
Saying I was really inlove.
poem by Maxpoet Beauty
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm very private in person. I'm very sensitive and shy with men individually. But when I'm talking, maybe there's this other channel or this other side and other way of working in my mind, and I convert and become carefree.