Activities of Timothy Long

Everybody has a story to tell,
Most people just won't say it,
Don't worry of the pain and sorrow the tale brings,
everything will fade away if given the time,
...

Chapter 1: Echoes of the Past

In a quaint little town, where the sun always shone, lived a man named Timothy, who was never alone. A writer by trade, with a heart full of dreams, he wandered the streets, in search of new schemes. But deep in his soul, there lay a dark fear, of memories forgotten, he wished to draw near. For his mind, there lingered a ghost, of times long gone, of memories he lost. One day as he strolled, down memory lane, a vision appeared, like a torrential rain. It was a face he remembered, from long ago, a friend he once loved, but had let go. The memories flooded back, like a raging river, of laughter and tears, of joy and of shiver. Timothy felt lost, in the sea of his past, wondering why these memories would forever last. He sat down to write, with a heavy heart, pouring his soul, into every part. Words flowed like a river, ad memories unfurled, each line a masterpiece, in his own little world. As he wrote, tears fell like rain, each word a balm, to heal his pain. For in these memories, he found a release, a way to make peace, with his past's cease. And as the sun set, on that fateful day, Timothy felt lighter, in every way. For he knew now that memories live on, in the hearts of the living, long after they're gone.
...

Chapter 1: Echoes of the Past

In a quaint little town, where the sun always shone, lived a man named Timothy, who was never alone. A writer by trade, with a heart full of dreams, he wandered the streets, in search of new schemes. But deep in his soul, there lay a dark fear, of memories forgotten, he wished to draw near. For his mind, there lingered a ghost, of times long gone, of memories he lost. One day as he strolled, down memory lane, a vision appeared, like a torrential rain. It was a face he remembered, from long ago, a friend he once loved, but had let go. The memories flooded back, like a raging river, of laughter and tears, of joy and of shiver. Timothy felt lost, in the sea of his past, wondering why these memories would forever last. He sat down to write, with a heavy heart, pouring his soul, into every part. Words flowed like a river, ad memories unfurled, each line a masterpiece, in his own little world. As he wrote, tears fell like rain, each word a balm, to heal his pain. For in these memories, he found a release, a way to make peace, with his past's cease. And as the sun set, on that fateful day, Timothy felt lighter, in every way. For he knew now that memories live on, in the hearts of the living, long after they're gone.
...

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
I see afar,
But you have no clue.
...

Let me be done,
Life's work may never be unsung,
But it's what I have to do,
Is being poor all I can be,
...

Oh, sweet desire, fill my heart
For someone to hold, never to part
I search the land, and sail the sea
My soul longs for someone to love, to be with me
...

With every breath I take
My heart beats faster, I quake
For you dear, are my true love
Sent from heaven above
...

Many will criticize the way my life has been lived,
Never understanding the hows or whys it happened as it did, I spent so many nights alone wishing one would find me or hold me, all that remains in the present is a chain of memories, I detested being alone until I consumed it, my sadness has become a coping mechanism, many will ask why not change it? how can you change when no one wants or has a need for you? The bitterness will become acceptance as emotions fade away, maybe that's why I smoke? to distracts from all the faults of my existence, what you think is needed will never find you, life is at best a chance meeting if your lucky,
For millions like myself we know how it's all going to end, by isolation or a suicide call,
Maybe an accident or disease can claim us,
...

Pennywise, the clown so bright
With a twisted smile, a frightful sight
Born from fear and nightmares deep
A monster that makes his victims weep
...

I'll write for you a love poem, my dear
A tale of love that's true and sincere
But not in words that rhyme and flow
Instead, the story of our love I'll show
...