Everyone Does It

I made myself leave my four walls. I am sitting on a picnic table at the lake. I have my side kick with me, my camera. 

There are a lot of elderly people where I live and with so many, comes complications. 

Arguing, complaining and gossip are the top three. This forces some individuals to leave each day and not return until dusk.

There is a certain fear that comes with being older and when unforseen things happen within the building, fear rises higher.

There is one gentleman who lives here. Younger, very nice looking. I have chatted with him several times as he lives close to me.

None of us are privledged to know why another is living here unless, it comes from the horses mouth.

This guy has never been able to look me in the eye. I don’t ask why as it is not my business.

I always felt sorry for him, believing he was all alone. He is one of those who leaves from dawn to dusk.

While sitting here, a couple was walking from a distance. As they neared, I recognized him and the lady with him.

I chuckled inside as I realized I had been wrong. He wasn’t looking at her, but it was obvious they were communicating by words and feelings.

I can’t always express myself easily when I am upset, although I am a jabber box.

None of us are alike but those of us find others similar to ourselves. We do survive, even in the tough situations. 

We can do it. We do humanly connect with each other.  We just do it in our own unique way.

If there are misspelled words, forgive me. Typing on my android.

There Is

There Is

Where there is life
There is hope
A persistence to explore
What lies ahead.

Where there is laughter
There is life
A feeling of love
For those around us.

Where there are tears
There is strength
A desire to live
Beyond today.

Written by,
Terry Shepherd



Put That Crime in a Box

I live in a city in northern Indiana. I am not sure why I am even stating that fact; as it doesn’t seem to really matter. This happens in about any town that has any politicians involved.

There are crimes, and then there are crimes. Get what I mean? Some of the crimes in my opinions are so petty, and being locked up provides certain luxuries that some senior citizens would give their right arm to receive plus the fact it is taking up valuable space for those crimes more serious, and of course, you know who is footing these  bills of three meals and a shower, right?

I am not able to speak on experience. Crap, I am just a pebble on the beach in our town. No one really knows who I am, and with what happens inside the box, I don’t think I would want to be discovered, so I will just remain one of many pebbles.

What gets my goat though worse than anything is crime. Now if I don’t report any changes within ten days to the government, any or all of my benefits can be ripped away for long periods of time, and maybe permanent too. There could also be a threat of jail time, and like I said, I am a nobody, and I did pay into the system for a time, so of course any benefits I receive, weren’t mine in the beginning, right?

Then there is the ones who have a name, have some money sitting under the  mattress and in the bank, and they commit a crime, and suddenly it is not labeled a crime or the guilty get pushed under a new name, a new category, and BINGO, all charges are forgiven or suspended.

I can’t say the crime. I don’t know if I would get in trouble or a knock at my door, so I will just say, it has been on the news, plastered on the internet, so I have to believe that there was truth in what happened at one point.

All I am trying to point out here is this; if you do the crime, I don’t give a hoot what your last name is or how many bundles you got in the bank, pay the price. You are no better than me or any other pebbles in this world.

People, quit giving the bad guys a break. How about giving a break to those of us older people who are fighting to eat every day, pay our rents and utilities, get rides to the doctors, struggle paying those co-pays. Oh shit, I could go on and on at the unbalance in our world, but hey, I am just that pebble, so who is really listening. Oh well, I feel better just getting this off my chest. I will sleep well tonight, will you?


Obviously, people who commit crimes should be punished. Even people who steal socks and ‘Snow White’ videos should probably do time if they have priors, especially serious priors. But the punishment has to fit the crime, and the standard has to be the same for everyone. Matt Taibbi
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/m/matt_taibbi.html

Has Fallen


How sad, one nation
Under God, for liberty
And justice, for ALL
Has fallen.

One marvels at change
Some look in awe
Our country in crumbles
Has fallen.

We have but one God
Who watches and cries
This wasn’t what he wanted
Has fallen.

Murder of innocent
Bombs and rape
Guns running rampant
Has fallen.

One nation, under God
This is who we were
Let’s pray and hold hands
Words heard for the fallen.

Written by,
Terry Shepherd

Photo taken by Terry Shepherd




Memorial Day


Soon it will be Memorial Day
A day of picnics and fun
A day of rest and remembering
In the bright and glorious sun.

A day of saluting our special ones
A day of standing in place
Taking a moment to give your thanks
To our veterans who fought with grace.

We tend to take life for granted
We forget how we came to be
We must love our country’s fighters
And what they did for you and me.

So when you fill your plate full
And you sit around together
Take a moment and bow your heads
And be grateful for now and ever.

Written by,
Terry Shepherd



ants 2

When Does Life Become Important

A stubborn man I always called him; that is until the day arrived when life turned on him. When Brad was growing up, he wanted everything he saw. If mom and dad said no, he found other ways to raise the money to buy what it was he wanted. I always said he was a spoiled brat, but maybe I was wrong.

One day came and people noticed how tired he looked. He walked tired, ate tired, and worked tired. I had made a comment that perhaps it was time to get that annual check-up that he had put off for years. I think he agreed, because before long Brad was calling me and telling me the date of his doctor appointment.

A few days after the appointment, the doctor called and said they wanted to talk to  him immediately. He went and I rode along for moral support. His sugar count was over 1000. He was told he needed to be immediately placed in the hospital to lower those sugars. This is when Diabetes was placed on his title.

In the hospital he was taught all about how diabetes works and how to keep his numbers down. He followed instructions, but soon after discharge, he realized he missed the bad foods he had consumed, and before long, he mentally ignored the doctor’s instructions and was soon taking insulin.

About five years he lived like the person he was before being diagnosed. He included all bad foods, bad eating habits, smoking, swearing, living in his own moments, and ignoring God.

Slowly I watched this body become beaten down. I heard complaints of being sore, tired, always in pain. It didn’t matter what I said, he ignored me. He turned from a smiling face to a grumpy old man in a young man’s body.

I continued to try to reach out to him to change his ways. I wanted him to find  his life valuable enough to make the changes. I wanted him to turn his life over to God and let the almighty help put him together again and let him see what life actually had in store for him.

Today, I see the strong-willed spirit still flying high, but in all the wrong places. It bothers me that he has the tools before  him to fight an early death. There are thousands of patients in the world that lean on God heavily, including myself, for cures and comfort.

My heart breaks as I hear of new patients being diagnosed with Multiple System Atrophy. It bothers me that now that I know the facts of what the doctor was really saying with my diagnosis; I also have Parkinson’s and Multiple System Atrophy symptoms.(Dystonia/Parkinsonism/Ataxia) We can do nothing but pray, keep our hope high, eat right and take our medicines.

I don’t understand people, but I know there are those who don’t give a damn about themselves, whether they live or die, but I do care and I know others who care very much about their lives and families and friends.

My mother used to say people can’t begin to understand what others feel unless they have lived in their shoes. This is true, but what about the yearning to be the best you can be? Maybe that’s not what it is all about.

I just know for me, I could definitely improve eating habits along with exercise and many other things. I want to live. I don’t want to leave this earth earlier than I should. I want to keep watching God’s beauty. I want to continue to write my short stories and poetry. I want to see a cure for many diseases. I want to help others. I want to see my family happy and fulfilled. So much to live for, is my thoughts.

What are your thoughts? What would you change about your past or do in your future? Are you content with where you are in life? Are there still things to do on your bucket list? If you feel comfortable enough, talk to me about it. If not, then think about it.


sunday 4

The Hoarder

The winds  howled. The doors creaked. Unwanted guests arrived quick; trying to find refuge. Candles danced shadows upon the walls creating scary faces that blinked eyes at you.

It was an eerie night in the house on the hill. It rested back a long, curvy lane, made of stone and gravel. Ruts formed from pouring rains, making it almost impossible for automobiles to make their way to the front door.

Naked trees with long arms, scratched their nails against each other as if fighting for their rights to stand tall and strong. Branches which couldn’t hold their own, fell hard to the ground; crumbling and breaking into many pieces.

Souls who once rested in peace in the cemetery next door, now could be seen by the most naked of eyes. White wisps of matter floated through the air as each spirit fought for a new resting ground.

Inside the house, dressed in a dingy, white, floor-length sleeping gown, a man sat at the table. A small table which held one lit candle, a dead rose in a dirty vase, a pad and a feathered pen rested on the worn tablecloth.

He picked up the pen and stuck the tip on his tongue as if pulling ideas stirring in his brain may come out into the open. He wrinkled his brow and scratched at his chin. “Come on, damn you, come out. I know you are in there.”

In his day, he had written many a word and placed the sheets in order and had created several books. No one knew that he was famous in his own right. A magician of thought, a monkey made to come to life by tugging at the strings, now sat lifeless, waiting for the brain to kick into gear.

He had sat there for hours, for days, trying to think of the first word he wanted to write down. He was about to give up and decided instead a change of pace may stir life back into him.

He slipped on his grayed slippers. He placed his over-sized, black trench coat on. Reaching for his umbrella, he opened the big, black knob and went out into the night. He walked slowly down the gravel and stood looking towards the cemetery as if pleading for someone’s help.

He shivered and pulled his coat closer to him and walked towards the spiked fence. The iron was holding back the once lived, keeping them in place until a bigger soul came to take them home.

He gazed over the tombstones looking for answers.  He suddenly became cold. He could feel ice seeping into his nostrils, following the path into the lung cavities. His body became stiff and he knew someone or something had entered his body.

He fell to the ground, grabbing at his throat, squeezing as if trying to stop what ever was invading him. He became lifeless and fell to the ground. Each thought he had ever created took over and consumed him, choking him to death.

Whispers heard, words not understood became louder and louder as his own body was eaten alive from hoarding  His mind  shut down,  his brain swelled, and he died right there amongst the thousands of thoughts and words that he had never once shared with another human being.

Painting done by,

Terry Shepherd






Amazing Wonders

Raindrops are God’s way
Of showing his disappointment
In how our universe ignores him.

Snowflakes softly falling
As God shakes his head in dismay
From so many ignoring his word.

Sunshine is the sparkle from God’s eye
As he gleams and nods his head in praise
As one more walks in his shadow.

Written by,
Terry Shepherd



Three Days

I had three days of glory

Walked fairly well

Barely any pain

But today is the first.
This is my story of Dystonasia/Parkinsonism/Ataxia. 

It reminds me of my brother when he was ill. He started out having more good than bad days. As time progressed, more bad than good.

I hope that doesn’t include me but it probably does for most illnesses.  Today, migrane, gait issues are back. I want three days again

Dream or Reality

Dream or Reality

Does Bonnie really
Fly over the ocean
Or is this a dream
A fantasy
For which we can
Visit when life
Gets stressful.
A way of returning
To a time
Once more playful
Funny and innocent.
As we lay in bed
Blankets tucked around
I think there really is
A Bonnie that
Flies over the ocean.

Written by,
Terry Shepherd


sparkle angel