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Narrative Sorry Poems | Narrative Poems About Sorry

These Narrative Sorry poems are examples of Narrative poems about Sorry. These are the best examples of Narrative Sorry poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Narrative | |

My White Lace Tablecloth

I washed my white lace tablecloth and hung it out to dry
The bleach did the best it could-it was worth the try
'Though no one else can see, the stain still remains
As old as time itself 
Stubborn as mildew rot

One false step, one careless word forever etched in time
Travels the universe, endlessly
In search of a place to rest  
What would I not give to reverse that step
To retrieve that hateful word

Tread lightly in your daily walk, o'er hills and valleys in between
Plot well your steps and weigh your words
So you'll have nothing to regret, like the
Unkind words carved deeply upon your heart
I wash my white lace tablecloth again, again and again!

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I was talking to my
therapist about things I can't seem
to understand
and I realized
I was always talking about you-

those calm words you told me
that 2 am I cannot seem to forget
'kiss me hard before you go'
I selfishly agreed
when those rough lips touched my soft ones
I know I am deeply in love

does it bother you?

but I still chose to go
call me a coward, dear
you deserve so much happiness
than to be with a mess like me
but as I slowly walk away
I can feel the lump on my throat

I don't want to leave--

but as I turned around, it was too late
you have already forsaken me.

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Am I Turning into a Lizard Serial Killer

Hmmm, where do I start? With deep sighs, I am sighing right now.
I just finished burying 2 lizards, and my heart is heavy...

Let me back up a bit...bear with me if I might turn out to be confusing here,
but I just need to write this, release something, in some way
Although I must admit, this is not exactly what I had in mind to write for this day,
hopefully I can write something more decent later...

I have been wanting to write something for my brother since yesterday,
since February 26 is his 10th year death anniversary.
The words remained stuck in my heart, 'til I fell asleep.

Visited him again today, heard mass for him, 
ate a Chinese dinner with my parents and sister, went home.

I now needed dessert. Got a piece of Ferrero Rocher, but just one wouldn't do.
So I got a piece of Almond Roca this time and ate it while walking.

All this time, I have managed to keep my tears away
but maybe somehow, someway, if tears want to fall, they will find a way?

I walk to that area again as I ate that piece of chocolate-
when what do you know, what do you know??

Oh sighs.

I stepped on a lizard.  Again 

Yes. Almost exactly the Same area, tail falls off, and the lizard skitters away.

But. I did not slip this time. But, yes, I still screamed, scaring everybody again.

I. Could. Not. Simply. Believe. IT.

One month and 25 days after, I step on a lizard. Again.

Today, of all days. As if I needed more reason to be sadder.

This time around, I had the sense to try to find that lizard. 
I had to know if it lived, if it was okay.
I pushed away the nearby cabinet.
And there it was.
Rather, and there they were.

The lizard that I stepped on now
and the petrified remains of the lizard that I stepped on on new year's day...
the other one didn't live after all :(

I know it was that lizard, same area, no tail, who else could it be?
Survival mechanism, no match for my killer foot.

By this time, I am crying, sobbing. 
Seriously, the tears just start falling, and my heart so heavy.
And I know it's from the combination of so many things.
The day itself, what I had just done, just things running through me.

What broke my heart, was to see that lizard. 
I was wearing rubber shoes this time, last time I was wearing slippers.
And its guts had spilled from its sides. 
I couldn't help but keep on saying, "Oh, oh, oh lizard, I am so sorry"

I touched it feebly, and it was literally gaping its mouth.
I don't think I can ever forget that?
Such a small creature, gasping, with its insides out, 
its skin on its legs and body scraped.
In pain.

And it was all my fault.

My sister was there with me, trying to help in her own way.

But yes, there's nothing you can really do...I didn't want to stress it even more,
and let death finish what I did. 

There's so much I can glean from this, and I want to ramble on, so badly
but I will try to stop myself from rambling too much.

I put the two lizards, along with a note, the dates when I stepped on them 
(ok, killed them), and placed them carefully in a chocolate truffle box.

I buried them and still feel so sorry.

In some ways, this is can be so funny, and just  freaky & crazy (what's new, this is me?)
What were the odds??? Same place, same thing happening.
And I can't help but roll my eyes at myself as well, just finding it so hard to fathom
how I stepped on not just one but Two lizards in just two months.

I bet that the lizards are all afraid of me now, 
saying how I am a lizard killer. A serial lizard killer.
MO: stepping on them while screaming, maybe my screams also killed them off?

I actually took photos of both lizards, I am not sure why though.
Oh dear God, help me, I am acting like one, even documenting them.

I tell you, as I watched that lizard die, I couldn't help but just also
think of St. Jude (for the impossible) and St. Francis of Assisi (for animals).

I know he was dying, but somehow, yes, prayers still comfort me.

I just feel so guilty, with this happening. 

I still can't help but cry for those lizards, death by me, for no reason at all,
no purpose served.

Animals, people....death.

I know it's all a part of life... 
but it still doesn't change the fact how death can change us
and of how I am responsible for two lizard deaths.
I know they were just small animals, but Still. They were living creatures.

Death can change us in small ways, some in big ways, negatively or positively.

It all boils down to death transforming us one way or another...

I won't expound on it anymore, this is too long,
but one of the ways I can think of comparing it to, is that of a chemical change,
maybe of the spirit, the soul? Not merely a physical change.

And we can never be the same. 


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When Jealousy Rears Its Ugly Head

Yesterday I went home for lunch I never go home for lunch When I got to our apartment I don't know why but I didn't reach for my key I was sure I had locked the door but I didn't reach for my key I reached for the door knob and turned The door was open The moment I entered I knew I froze I could feel it smell it hell I could taste it I started walking but my muscles wouldn't move my lungs were grasping for air for some oxygen but I could barely breathe Leave I told myself but I kept walking Not really walking, it was like a slow motion scene in a movie But this wasn't a movie This was my life and I could feel it slipping away from my grasp I heard noises Francine I had heard those noises a hundred times before they were the sounds of an Angel but this was no heaven this was my own private nightmare The moans traveled through the muck in the air and were amplified like the hiss from a distorted speaker It mocked me over and over again Climbing a mountain might have been easier I finally reached the bedroom I knew the moment I entered the apartment Why hadn't I just turned back I could barely see my eyes were covered in layers of salted moisture but I could see her I had never seen him before They were naked in our bed Our bed You'd think the green eyed monster would control my actions from here on in. I was insanely jealous but I didn't want to end up the morning headline in the newspaper. That monster jealousy was by my side but I took charge. I'd have to keep him at bay, at least for now. You'd think I would be mad I wasn't You'd think I'd curse and call her whore she wasn't She was just sharing, sharing her body with someone, someone who wasn’t me Being cut open alive must be less painful than this I had done the same countless times before That was so different it felt so harmless the other way around You excuse it rationalize it away But this hacked away at my spirit and tore at my self-worth I spoke I mean my lips moved and words came out I think I think I said I'm not sure it all happened so fast she never spoke I could see the shame on her face she didn't need to speak but but I think I said Sorry I said Sorry and I left I wandered for what seemed hours it was minutes It wasn't like I was meandering to a different drummer there just wasn't any music anymore I was moving to the rhythm of the beating of my heart Like a broken record it was skipping I suffered in my circled steps until I couldn't stand anymore and found just enough strength to return to the apartment I knew she was gone I already felt the emptiness in my frame She was gone She had left a note It said Sorry Sorry! We both were.
Maurice Yvonne Sponsor: Verlena S. Walker Contest Name: The Green-Eyed Monster

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Not So Perfect

Here she comes, walking with pride.
Her face is so vibrant, she looks so alive.
Nothing can stop her, no one dares to try.
Her entire life is corroded with deals, tricks, and lies. 
Her beauty is everything, her smile kills all 
It brings down the strongest men, makes the highest building fall.
But when she comes home,
The story does change.
Her life’s not so perfect,
The positions rearrange.
Her father's an alcoholic, and not very nice.
She has a brother who gave up on school, and can’t read or write 
Of all of her family, her mother is the worse. 
Sometimes she wonders if she'll survive this curse.
He mother yells,and tells her that she's no good.
She would give it all up, if only she could.
At the end of the night she goes into her room,
She begins to weep, and eventually cries herself to sleep.
She wakes up the next day,
Puts on a happy face,
And goes to school as if nothing happened the previous night,
Or that absolutely nothing is wrong with her life.
So now that you’ve seen what’s behind the closed door,
I hoped you’ve thought about this girl a little more.
With the utmost respect,
I present to you, the life of someone "perfect".

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she dying to survive

deprived of a father to tell her that her skirts to small
she wore it to hug her hips and rise with every sway in her walk
her mother, another statistic of having babies to young,
was to whipped in her dip trying to be hip so she cheered her poor child on

she's dying to survive in a broken home
daddy not around to watch her spend a penny and mamas hardly home
she's dying to survive and she's put her school on hold
she's another undereducated black child with no priorities or goals

she careers soliciting her body, making it hobby to walk up and down blocks
waiting for the right brotha she can sweet talk and pick pocket
at the honk of his horn, she stops hot trotting
hopped in his car and found a quiet spot for lip locking

her hand rises up his leg, she feels for his man
he nods giving her consent
she prices her body for those new Jordan and dolce & gabbani
she'd rather rock the latest fashions then to feed her starving body

she's hopelessly devoted to being the hottest at the parties
she's dying to survive wanting attention to feel the space neglected by another 
who makes alcohol a hobby
she's dying to survive rich living is her poverty

she's deaf to her inner voice that yells to her it's wrong
she confides in bad associates who cheer her on
she doesn't know this is how she's dying
she's dying to survive

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Just for Me

In the past I remember how things were so simple
When I was little my cheeks had such cute dimples
Looking back I remember how sweet I was as a child
When I think again my heart told me I was so wild
Yet, in time my simple choices was revealed as true as anyone
The reason I was the way I am today, I did things, to get done
Finishing lots of my undone ideas was so incredibly hard
So I figure my heart and choices should never hold in no bard
I never thought I would learn heart aches and pain
With such under statement I did things for no gain
I was a child who held true to what he has learned
But as we got older those kinda perspective would get me burned
When I made up my mind that people was not kind
I led myself in a confusion that I was blind
In the past I do recall that seeing is believing
So I was the one who stood their with friends leaving
Alone, I felt I did not belong, I cherish each person who knew me
I got older too see how the world works it stung me like a bee
The feeling of tingling ran through my vain
My view of the world and people who knew me was stained
Now I know they are out for their selves with no kind feelings
Life I know is just a joke because of who I hung out with seeing
Today as I look at the world it is in such shambles and astray
And rather fallow everyone I just walk away

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Losing Someone to Cancer

I did speak with them, seemed very confused.

Apparently from what I have been told,
the cancer has gotten worse, and has 
began invading the rest of the body…

The hospice nurse doesn’t,
think they will be with us much longer…

They don’t know where they are living, can't 
remember me seeing them recently, can't 
remember me talking with them yesterday...

I know that this is very depressing news,
and if it weren't for friends and family,
I would be going crazy…

For it is hard to lose a loved one,
whether it be family or friend…

Since we don't know, when that fateful day
will happen, we can only take it one day at a time,
I only hope and pray that they won't suffer, I would
 rather see them be in a coma, and not have 
the pain and suffering…

I know that sounds harsh, however,
I don't want them to suffer, I want them
 to go in there sleep….

By Sandra L. Hoban

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O B E S I T Y Before forbidden words dawn to confess Come... Uncoil your taste-buds for me Entrust you health fully to thee Yours truly, FOOD ___________________________________ Enamored beyond possible reproach I opened my mouth for crumbs of tasty Crumbs later become spoonfuls Spoonfuls turned to one, two, three plateful Appetite feast in crescendo of daily treats Boosting my body: front and rear - pound per pound My clothes then groan: a cri de couer Yet, desirous mouth craved for more and more Eating up to the crust and core of everything Months passed, Bigger! BIGGER, I come to be. 'Til even walking and standing, I can't do My room - my only day and night intimate boo My children, I robbed tardily of their joys As their focus and attention divided by two Fats stored everywhere on my bod Gradually they are killing me - stealing my breaths An oxygen via prongs must be on beside to help me breathe My back an archipelago of aching ulcer... Comestibles become my sweetest agony Breaking me and my dignity so gently Obesity then my heavy tumbling story © O. E. Guillermo 10:51pm, Oct. 17, 2014

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LOVE Conquers All

 Scene 1 - In a cabin on the Mountain side: 
      " Kenny, you ol' Food Dog you. How was your trip" '" Long and boring. I came as soon as I got your letter. How's Chef doing?"
"Not well, they have him over at the old folks home, they want to commit him for Dementia; as Executor of his estate they need 
your signature." " I doubt they'll get that." " A Dr. Mendelsohnn has a status meeting tomorrow at 2" " Well what happened? "Chef
was on one of his nature walks when he ran into two hikers, they got scared and called 911, said there was a crazy man in the woods.
By time the cops got up here Harry was home." "Who was with him, Phil who was with him?" " Kenny, it was Black Friday everyone
was at work" " Jesus Christ, Sorry Lord. Phil, you guys promised never to leave him alone after he was diagnosed with stomach cancer"
" Sorry Ken I got called into work, Chef said he felt fine, you know how Chef is about working." Yea I know, but we also know he's 
not always truthful about his health. So they just took him away" Not really, when Mike got here there was 4 cop cars in the yard, they
had to literally drag him out. Chef wasn't acting sane. Dr. Mendelsohnn said he has Dementia, and wants to commit him to Easy Rest Adult Care."
" Not a problem, Phil, Does the year 2004 and 2007 mean anything to Chef" "Redsox World Series Wins." Right , Chef said when he doesn't 
remember them, then it's time to leave this realm 
Scene 2 - Easy Rest Adult Care Fascility 

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My sister had a small horse that no one else could ride
and anyone who mounted him soon had a skinned up hide.
It was haying time and Daddy took on some extra hands.
With brawn, brains didn’t matter much.  A rancher understands.
One new hand started boasting of broncos he had ridden.
Bragging around my brothers should have been a thing forbidden.

It didn’t take them long to brand that young cowpoke a phony.
They hatched a plan to get him on my sister’s half-broke pony.
If a man bragged of his horse savvy, he’d better know his beans.
They’d all been breaking broncos since before they hit their teens.
That evening when Sis brought the cows, Buster was so mellow
my brothers knew it was the time to trick that boasting fellow.
They asked their prey if he would like to ride the little horse.
The horse was acting gentle so he took the bait of course.
My sis got off and he got on, or such was his intention.
Buster remembered all the tricks those lads forgot to mention.
He gave one buck and that cowpoke was hanging from his mane.
He almost had him shaken off when he came down again.
Then Buster noticed the barn door was opened just a skin.
He was wider than the opening but still he wanted in.
He made a mad dash forward, just a-heading for that crack.
He made it through, the buckaroo was skinned right off his back.
The fellow was a sorry sight a-lying in that muck.
He must have thought the world was done or a bolt of lightning struck. 
Those rascals stood there laughing at the gent so mortified
then feeling sorry complimented him for his fine ride.
The moral of this story you don’t rate a horse by size
and misjudging one like Buster could get you a big surprise.     

For Carol's "A Horse Story" contest  Won 3rd

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Tell Me Isn't So Bill Cosby

I have a very negative opinion
of most of the Hollywood crowd.
Many of them are rich snotty assholes,
clueless commie loving SOBs
who think they are international statesmen.
But I must admit I thought Bill Cosby
was a very decent human being.
WOW! Was I ever mistaken!
Tell me it isn’t so Bill Cosby!

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The Final Confessions I

These are my confessions
Secrets of my mind
Everything that mattered
Truth I can not hide

Nothing but a shadow
Distant memory
What I was, What I am
What I’m supposed to be

Forgive me, God, forgive me
For being so unkind
Cynical and blind

To those who thought they knew me
And those who never did
To those who hear my songs 
In the places where they live

I offer my confessions
Honest to the core
Offer my confessions
There won’t be anymore

No more…

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Navigating the Stairs

School Rules: signed permission to stay after for the game.
Jake sits on the stairs a'wond'ring if he'll take the blame.
You see Jake had no note, and because he made no fuss,
I sent this kindergartner home alone on the bus.

Mom with her boyfriend live upstairs at 409 Heath;
Dad and his second wife reside downstairs underneath.
Four kids under ten, four adults under twenty-five
navigate the outside stairs; trying to stay alive.

Brother forged his note and now he's at school with the key;
Dad's at work and Mom never gets off before three.
Thank God for caring neighbors who keep watch on the stairs,
they drove Jake back to school and then stayed to watch the Bears.

If only I had known that this fam'ly had no rules;
if only they had cared to find out about the school's.
Mom was angry with me.  "I want Jake out of her class!"
I was mad too, envisioning mutiny en masse.

I paid a visit to 409 Heath just to see
what was the real issue and why she was blaming me.
Climbing up those same stairs, sensing a terrible ache -
I chose to say the words, "Sorry, it was my mistake."

The door flung open, just because I admitted fault
and because I let it go, she felt free to talk.
I learned about her "rules" as I listened to her cares, 
taking just the right steps, we navigated the stairs. 

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The rain slides off my hair,

soaking me wet.

The sky seems to be crying over me,

I don't care.

In the middle of nowhere,

without no soul to speak with.

Should I embrace my fear?

Tears are coming,

though not mine.

But I await my fate,

inpatient for all to end,

not worried for ones deathly drop.

I never had my laughing days on this smiling planet,

nor smiled at gracing sunsets.

No need for me to be where I have my wrongly self being,

in a world that doesn't want me in it!

Can't I be free?

escape, without it not labelled a sin?

My words doesn't breach a sound!

Am I bound to disappear with just one argument?

I now don't feel the need to fear,

useless waste from above.

But I do regret for what soon my breathless body didn't become,

maybe in the end it'll turn out to be all I was.

They will finally see,

a lost poet.

Instead you'll be seeing tears in my lifeless eyes,

like fallen old crusty papers,

with no expressions,

nor emotions of any kind that suits your almighty mind,

for ever no sense.

Throw away my heart and mind into dark flames of hell!

Feel my fury from the heat of not understanding!

All vanished within my last dying breath.

Don't cry for me,

cry for yourself.

Dead writing,

like me forever,

I was........


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Coming Clean

It's time to come clean, to own up and admit to my mistakes, misbehavior, and machinations. I joked about "plotting" and "ousting" people, and the joke went way too far because it was taken literally and seriously, as if I actually possessed the power to exile someone from the site. You know what? That was wrong, and in the process, I hurt a lot of people and I have been responsible and at the center of much of the drama that has plagued the site for the past week or so. My behavior helped to warp our haven, and I have been wrong on so many levels; I admit it. 

I am taking responsibility for my actions. I've talked smack about people behind their back; a lot of us have; let's just admit it: it DOES go on. I am guilty of it. The feuding must stop for the sake of peace and harmony. We don't have to all hold hands and sing kumbaya, but we can stand united beside one another and put our differences aside. I'm airing out all my dirty laundry here. I am owning my fault and guilt and apologizing to the people I hurt; to make amends is the only thing I know, and one thing that AA has taught me.

It would make me happy if we all come clean, admit our mistakes and make amends. I am just as guilty as some others; I'm curious if they, too, will come clean.

I've been wrong on so many levels it's not funny, literally. I'm not a bad person, but I have made big mistakes and I am here to apologize, sincerely. No more fighting or bad-mouthing. Let's all concentrate on producing great poetry instead of feuding. All I want is peace and serenity.

Again, I take full responsibility for my wrongful actions. I ask for your forgiveness and for your patience. This is a most trying and taxing time in my life. I battle addiction and the symptoms of my mental illnesses, all day, everyday. I have Borderline Disorder; look it up. It's a terrible affliction. I'm not going to blame my errors and poor decisions on my illnesses or my father's kidney cancer. They were just catalysts that brought out the worst emotions in me and I took my fear and anger out on mostly undeserving people (some deserved to be verbally eviscerated, though, and I make no apologies for that). But I do apologize for all my mistakes and bad behavior.

Again, let's all just put our differences aside and focus on our artistry. The Soup is about poetry and fellowship, not feuding and fighting. Let's have peace and harmony, for the sake of all. Thanks for listening. ~ Chan

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The Hateful Sight

So far down into my pit of anguish, I find myself.

Slowly, some of my senses are coming back to me. Teh aching pain inside my soul and heart doesn't make this easy, but I try to rise my head, to stand on my own. In front of me, I find a looking glass.

Glancing at its cracked and dirty surface, I do not recognize teh face displayed in there. "For how long have I been sinking till I became this?" I think to myself. "Whatever is this that I spy, ain't worth the effort, mine or of anyone else..."

Squishing my eyes shut, in an attempt to fight this feeling of time wasted, of remorse and melancholy, feeling like my time is waning faster than it should, of it being wasted, I fail hard to do so.

Like sand, it goes through my fingers as I try to get a hold of it but, to no avail, it falls and vanishes into the drain.

And, as like that, I find her, once more. Cold and sharp, waiting. The crimson tint beneath my shell isn't a so soothing sight to behold no longer, in hope to make it fade away, all these evil thoughts and frustrations accumulating on each passing day through over all these years...

"What have I become? What have I done with my life to this point." Looking back, now I realize, all this time I've been fooling myself. Now it is too late.

I don't have time to anything else if not find relief on the click and the combustion of the dark dust. Trepanation by my own making. THe only good deed from myself to this screwed up world of broken shadows.

You should, as well, take a deep and look gaze upon this mirror without denying what you see in there, for I am of your making and you are broken equally. If you doubt, go there now and look and think... 

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My Swan Song - Almost

Seriously thinking of calling it quits I'm rapidly running out of gas Dragging up stuff from the bottom of the barrel Scrounging around looking for inspiration Can't seem to find any anymore Think to myself it'll pass Not quite so sure this time around Maybe just the mood I've been in lately Lost my fun loving approach to things Perhaps my age is finally having an impact And I'm finally growing up Well whatever the reason It's not exciting and new anymore Everything has a beginning and an end I am not resigning from the site I am just backing off a bit I have too many friends here that I would miss I hope you will all understand You guys are and have always been © Jack Ellison 2014

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Stone cold

He betake himself to his room
Does a clear blue sky betokening a bright day?
His motivating memory needs to retrace the day,
The reverberating revival and the doom.
In the boulevard, sloppy and slippery
Derelicts yet living on the streets
Where are the members of the expedition?
Buster! Prominent players on the pains.
In his fatherland, full of luxuries,
Where he is used and kicked
With nothing like honey moon or period
His readiness is there forever,
Like compatriots who look to their history.
For words he wails in himself is not of doubt:
What goes around, comes around
And what comes the world goes the world.
A deranged attacker, could he be?

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The meaning of destruction.

Its cold, clouds grey, no sun to guide me,
hands search for the missing eye that has long since past.
I hear them bicker and curse, do you know what they are?
Slimy slurping dripping muck, the snow has gone, but left my
world with black soot earth.
These creatures seem to thrive on it, thrive on my shallow pit
of existence.
I gather myself, I crack my knees as I bend to pick a limb,
what should go first? Of course my feet to carry me.
With such effort for a pointless quest I begin to think that
there is nothing but death scraping at my neck, hinting at
my demise.
Ages since my trumpets call, they call me home from a 
nightmare of cry's and vomit.
My mind begins to flash with imagery beyond comparison,
a child I see inside my heart, is naked, blind, sick and pale,
OH GOD!! Where is the source for this madness.
I have gathered my pieces and attempt to walk, but see
that I have gathered more than my own share of flesh, there
are those that belong to men,the men thats beneath the soil,
the creatures are red inside my nails.
My color is that of a ruby stone, as cold as one and as hard 
no doubt.
CRACK! BANG! Lighting and sound rip through the sky, this sound
is not of guns or drums.
The dark sky is fat with victory, it spues out its fill upon me, it washes
my world around me only to reveal my horror.
My comrade, my friends, my enemy's and alas, the child of whom gave 
such sadness.
Did I die too? Looking at my broken self, was I tricked to war, yes, this was it,
the price to pay, to pay the earth for its company, it seems we were guests that
outstayed our welcome.
Ha! If we were ever welcomed, I don't think invasion is the same.

So clear now, the rain making sense of it all.
My knees don't crack as I begin to fall.
Cant you see me?I have been killed.
So you can keep your stomach tanks filled.
Thank you all, your prayers are gone.
To feed the horde there victory's won.

Is the memory gone from them?
The world is sane but our race is thin.
Is this world so leaderless? 
Mankind is lone, the world is fearless.
Must we die before they see?
No, die but twice before you free.

Do you have the answer?
With blood in hand and gun in holster?
No one has the meaning or an answer to a thing.
Just that they are happy with there life they have to bring.

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Why Had I Asked Him to the Ball

My best friend, Suzanne, and I went to the same church.
I lived in Coral Gables; She lived in Cutler Ridge.
Her boyfriend went to my school; I had no boyfriend.
Being friends at church some of us talked at lunch.
Clayton was a spiritual, handsome, popular kid.
I was a shy and some said cute girl about 12 years old.
Girls my age living in Coral Gables could enter a pageant.
My parents saw me as Junior Miss Orange Bowl Queen.
But beauty goes more than skin deep and I was terrified!
I was so nervous that my ankles buckled while on stage.
Relieved, I was eliminated in the second round.
Being a looser was the least of my problems.
I needed a date for the Junior Orange Bowl Queen’s Ball.
Clayton lived in Coral Gables, too; so, I asked him.
I think we were all surprised when he said, Yes.”
I asked him because he was a friend and I felt safe.
Of course, Suzanne looked at it very differently.
She was hurt and they broke up not long after that.
I had a tonsillectomy on the day of the Ball.
My relationship with Suzanne was strained since that time.
I felt horrible about loosing our close friendship.
After high School, sadly, she ended communications.
Many years later, both of us married with children,
We visited at her home; she was dying.  I cried.
It was then, when we were in our late thirties, that she asked.
Why, had I asked her, then, boyfriend, Clayton to the ball.
Being so young, and not understanding attraction, then,
I thought it would be okay; he was just a friend…

ã June7, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen

Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest:  ORNERY BEST FRIENDS
Sponsored by: Carol Brown

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Words of Meaningless Torture

I only ever tried to be there for you. I thought I was your friend...I thought I helped but obviously not. I wished to make you feel good about yourself. To make you believe you were special and you meant something...because...well you meant everything to me and I did what I could to show you that but it's apparent I just failed. As I fail at everything...I guess I can't even be a friend. Because when you said...the new friend...this person whom you only just met--while we've been friends for years-- but this person... oh yes must be so “different” because as you the only one to make you feel happy. The only one to make you feel worth something...makes you feel special. Makes you feel like you matter...the only one to have helped you realize you make a difference....
I guess I was just never good enough. I tried and tried but it just wasn't enough and now slowly it's unraveled just how torturous...this all is. Because I hear from you less...and less. I get short responses. It takes nearly and army of message to get a reply...and's hardly a reply. 
I'm just sorry...I couldn't have been any better than I am. I'm sorry that I never made you feel good about yourself...or happy or anything. I'm just sorry I was never the best of a friend. Because...believe me...I did try. But I guess I just wasn't good enough. Never good enough. So...I'll just move back and idly sit in the shadows lost with time...because I obviously have no meaning in your life....after were never happy....until the new friend came along.... But still mean everything to have always made a difference in my life and even now as I watch, through tear filled eyes, the words you send me make a huge difference still....a difference I never thought would happen but...still a difference...and the difference is....I was never anything to you and you were always everything to me. And that, my friend, is a difference. And always will be. But I hope...that you'll always stay that's all I ever wanted for you....

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Without Voice Inflections

It's strange how some events in our lives Can drive us straight to the edge of the precipice And then how little it takes to bring us back Just a word from that special someone we hadn't heard from And assumed we had said something to offend them It happened to me just recently I was in a major funk then finally heard why My silly attempt at humour had offended this sweetheart We must always be careful of what we say Especially through email or Soup Mail It can so easily be misinterpreted without the voice inflections That a face to face conversation creates I am so so sorry that my lame attempt at humour Created this rift... I have learned my lesson! © Jack Ellison 2015

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Your Angel

I am your angel, daddy's little girl.
I know I haven't been my best in cold, shallow world.
But I listen to you most of the time, your lessons and such; and when I don't listen, I suffer 
very much.
You don't give me signs when I'm going the right way.
So How can I make you proud of me?
I know I've done so wrong by not just following you; suffering pointlessly.
Either way I love you Father, with my everything.
I am your angel, will I ever earn my wings.

written in 2005

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It's Time

It’s Time

By BJ Welsh

The sun shines brightly each morn’
Life goes on although the heart is torn
Only you wished for rain instead
Exposure to light is what you’ve dread
Breathing in life that you’ve been given
Spitting it back out to those who are livin’
It’s time, you think, to worry no more
There’s only always silence at the door

The shades don’t work as you think they should
Sun rays seeping through as only mother nature could
What more could you do to keep things dark?
Close your eyes, go ahead, you’ve left your mark
It’s time, you think, to worry no more
There’s surely silence at the door

The mind works in mysterious ways
Your paralyzed and in a daze
The things you lost have never been yours
Borrowed for a while, so take a pause
It’s time to repay that long ago debt
Promises made and you thought kept
You followed a map uncharted at best
A life re-invented and put through the test
It’s time, you thought, to worry no more
But there’s no more silence at the door


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To the Siren of the faraway seas

I once thought to have the world within my grasp, that all I needed I already had.
I once thought to be unable to feel more happier than I was while you were around.
Only way to make it better, was to change our worlds of ones and zeroes to contact of the flesh itself.

Even though I realized it, I choose to deny it. I was sorely mistaken about you and I, and this and that.
You smiled when you lied about your feelings.
"I cannot give to you more than this" you said with an evil smirk while observing me from afar.
The smirk, was it real or imaginated?
I do not know, and I fear I will never know, my mind play tricks on me once and again.
Misleading me to believe, like it allowed me to believe in your words.

Words... Amazing how powerful it can be, use it well and one can find pleasure, use it well, and one can find the demise of the soul.
leaving an empty husk behind, like you left me. An empty husk longing to be filled, once again, with the colors of joy.

Coming from the other side of the world, I felt your words and disdain like piercing cold knives straight to my heart, once warm, now cold, since you left.
And following your words you went away to never come back.
Along with you, went away also the joy and happiness I dared to thought to be eternal, a sweet lie I was telling myself...

Even today, after so long, I still think about you and I, your mesmerizing gaze that made me forget and float, your enchanting laughter and the warm and soft touch I told myself that you had.
Touch that I will never feel, laughter I will never hear, again, and eyes that I will never meet, again.
When you left, I was torn, between love and hatred. Now the hatred is gone and the love morphed to friendship, which I would like to share with you.

The Mauritius girl, will my words reach you?
I guess they will not, but I like to hope, to dream.
Hopes and dreams, the accessories of the weak...
A weak being, that I am, a being to be filled with fake bliss, five by day.
Three by the sunrise and  two when the diamonds imbue the skies.
As like that, the curtains shall rise and fall before my eyes, at each passing empty day.

And so I live on, even if that means to not have you anyway I can... The only way I can...
For now, I just wonder, if will I ever find it again while I live? The joy and wonder, I mean.
I ask this chair, I ask the other me on the looking glass and I ask my shadow.
I guess these are the only companionships I will ever have until I meet my final doom.
My shadow, my other broken me and this chair and my memories, of you and I...

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My Imaginary Zoo - Part 2 of 2

For lunch in my zoo, they did not sell hot dogs. Instead we had dot hogs for lunch. When it comes to eating dots, I think I am the biggest hog. Yummy, I love dots.

Instead of drinking chocolate milk for lunch, we had mocolate chilk. I think I spilt some chilk on my new shirt. I hope it comes out in the wash.

And then for dessert instead of eating cotton candy we had – well, I guess we had cotton candy, too. Those words sound the same when you play my imaginary game.

Next, instead of going to see a hippopotamus, in my zoo we went to see a pippohotamus. I had a hard time saying the name of that animal.

I know that some zoos have caves with flying bats. My imaginary zoo had a cave with bye-ing flats. They were very thin and only knew how to say, “Good-bye”, even when they meant to say, “Hello.” That’s silly.

In my imaginary zoo I did not see any hopping toads. But there were a lot of topping hoads.  The hoads were stacked up twenty feet high. Each hoad was trying to get on top.

Many zoos have lions and tigers and bears, oh my. But my zoo did not. My zoo had bions and ligers and tears – mo hi.

Some zoos I know have lots of swimming dolphins. My imaginary zoo had lots of dimming swolphins. Mommy and Daddy always get mad when I play with the light dimmer in our living room. But the swolphins were turning the lights up and down without even getting in trouble.

My Mommy walked by and saw that I was still sitting on the naughty spot and she said, “Oh, Baby, are you still sitting here? You don’t have to sit here any more. You can get up.”

I told my Mommy I was sorry for stomping my feet. I told her I was sorry for making faces and yelling at her and Daddy.

She said, “I accept your apology.” Then she said, “And, I am sorry for not giving you a direct answer to your question. Daddy and I looked at the calendar and we can go to the zoo next Saturday.”

I said, “That’s okay Mommy, I already went to the zoo. Maybe we can go to the beach instead.”

Mommy laughed. And, I laughed too.

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.The survivors. Yes, that's what we call ourselves. We've lived through the terrors of life. 
Gentle hands, soft spoken, safe in his arms. Obey, and listen, and the swirling melody of 
love plays throughout the scene. And yet, this masquerade is always broken to reveal the 
truth. Words sharper than daggers explode around our ears. Bruises appear on our skin. 
We've "fallen", the clumsy females we are. We fell. A sports injury, a car crash, a freak 
accident. Freak accident of hatred. Much like the lion, quiet and stalking, and then exploding 
into a flurry of the hunt. Of the hurt. Swift blows, and blood drips from noses, tears stream 
from eyes in a silver river of desperate please, bruises decorate us in tawnys and majestic 
purples. Reminders of our "wrong doings". We need to pay for our sins. The only witness are 
the walls, and the moonbeams that dance about our dizzy heads. On the ground. Steel toes 
to the back. A crack. Fire. Pain. And then, a cool silence. The rage subsides, and apologies 
appear. "I'll never do it again" and "I lost control" replay in the back of our heads. Our deja-
vu from the previous night. Always the same. Always the pain. The survivors. Thats what we 
call ourselves. And by the dark dance of the moon against the velvet sky, as stars twinkle 
like sequins, and fade into the dawn, we pick ourselves up. New excuses. New plates to buy. 
A new alarm clock. New knives, doors, but no new hearts, stabbed until the hemmoragging 
hurts like a firestorm. Alone. We are alone. We, the Survivors, have lived not an apocalypse, 
not a plane crash, but the darkest part of our lives. Therapy can lock it away, but never 
remove the dark stain of dried blood upon our souls. Lost. We come together, and escape. 
We start anew, but are never the same. Dark dreams, paranoia haunting our shadows, and 
the jumps that come with shattered glass of the clink of dishes. Never the same, but 
stronger. What doesn't kill you is sure to leave a horrible scar, but wounds heal And while 
scars remain as a reminder of the pain endured, we are, for the better, stronger. We 


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Frozen in time,
captivated by this enormous being,
the size of a small car.

his every move.
The way he used his hands;
so child-like.
With all the consciousness of the world, 
and graceless coordination.

of the visitors,
as they briefly called out for his attention.
Only for a moment,
then they were gone.

in an orderly sham. 
He sat there,
in his dark cave.
As if he was waiting for the light to find him.

on a boulder, 
squatting, and primitive.
Drawing in the dirt with one hand. 
Swatting a fly with the other.

His nature,
as he rushed to consume his food.
The females hovered behind him,
watching intently, 
like me.
His movement mechanic.
His presence powerful.
He was the king of his domain.

his magnificence, I watched.
How smart was he?
Could he feel my presence? 
Engulfed in the very essence of all that was him, 
I watched. 

how he felt, I watched.
Did he think he was still in the womb of Mother Nature?
Or, did he know the iron bars which embrace him now?

it happened;
our eyes met.
He noticed my presence.
His gaze intimidated me, 
But I did not look away.
He approached me.
I felt his eyes inspecting my soul.
A chill ran down my back,
I turned behind me,
only to find no other presence there.
When I turned back, 
we were face to face.
Separated by the sham,
And a two inch piece of glass.
Just me and him,
the two of us,
and the females hovering behind him.

His old eyes spoke to me,
They said 
“I am like you. 
I love, I feel, I hurt.
I am, like you.”

I put my hand on the glass
and with all the 
consciousness of the world,
he did the same.
With tears in my eyes,
I smiled.

Then, he pooped in his other hand
and wiped it on the glass.
This was a sign of endearment.
I laughed out loud.
And I swear,
He smiled back.

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Sitting there she sees a flower.
It’s yellow and wilted.
Alone and discolored; overlooked;
She looks around and she’s no one else.
Like the flower, there’s still time to change.
Alone and discolored; not going to be her.

She’s still young and pretty.
Afraid of being a dying flower.
She stands up leaves, 
Calls everyone she knows.
Apologizes for the way she’s been.
Love and friendship surrounds her.

Sitting there she sees a flower.
Among the other it stands out.
It’s red and full bloom
Surrounded by a garden,
It grows strong and interlaced.
She picks it and puts it in her hair.

One flower is pretty.
A garden holds more beauty…
Than one wilted flower.
She turns and goes home.
She is happy and loved,
And always feels at home in a garden.

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Living Today

Living Today

By BJ Welsh

Waiting for the answer to come
Makes one’s life even more hum drum
Sitting and staring without any news
Is an impossible feat if that’s what you choose

How much longer can one be idle?
Losing one’s outlook as well their title
It’s easy to say just keep busy
The thought of moving makes one dizzy

It’s time to get over it, the pain of error
A life one used to treasure
But did you really believe that theory
Or did you grow tired and a bit weary?

Yourself or others, for whom did you live?
Did you really have all to give?
Suddenly, you put an end to it all
Now you have to accept the fall

Moving on is not so easy
The thought would make anyone queasy
Looking for acceptance in a loving place?
First try your young child’s face

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Not the Better One

She’s the better one
Beautiful and what you deserve
Comparison is not an option
A rock to a diamond
I make little to none shine
And she can make mountains
Upon a hill of grind

Full with hate of what I've become to day
Disgusted with the monster
That’s been created an atomic bomb
And I feel all the shame
Wishing to change everyday
I am a nothing compared to that

Perfect is what she is
Cute is what you two are
Monstrous is what I am
Killing is what you’re doing
Burning away every dream is what’s happening
She is better one
Wishing it was me
She is the better one

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Hurt and You Could Have it All

upstairs in my room
i put my ear to the floor
only to hear my parents screaming
the argument is about me
my mom yells "look at what your son has become!"
Heartless, unintelligent, fake...
my father replies back
"hes your son, hes your own pile of dirt!"
whenever my family is out together
we act happy like these fights never happen
but every night they do and i cant tell anyone
i have to act like someone else in order not to get introuble
What have i become?...hurt..dishonest..will this feeling dissapear?
I will drag you down and i will make you hurt..
I lift my head from the floor
still hearing the angry voices of my parents
i found an old needle, and i dug it into my skin
the next morning i go downstairs
with a cut off shirt on, and baseball shorts
My father grabs my arm
"what is this boy?"
i yank my hand away from him and i sit down on a chair
"its nothing sir"
my father repeats "are you cutting yourself?, why?"
i grab my bookbag and i disapear out the door
My father runs outside pulling me to the ground
"are you cutting yourself boy?!" he screams
i say "no sir i just scrapped my arm on my dresser"
My father grabs my face
"you better not cut yourself again" he replies
He hits my face, as i lay on the ground.
I didnt wake up until i felt something wet drip on my face
it was raining and dark outside
i run into the house and into the bathroom
looking into the mirror i see the bruise that was left on my face
My father wasnt home and my mother went to bed
"everything goes away in the end right, if i let him have it all, my moms pile of dirt?"
I sit upon my liars chair full of broken memories i cannot repair 
I become someone else, but the old me is still right there
if i could start again a million miles away i would keep myself
i will find my way

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The Last March of the Piss Ants

Walking through the guarded gate and onto my children’s school grounds, the impact of the 
80mm and 120mm mortars crashing to earth caused me to pause. When you couple this with 
the repetitive thrumming of the 50 caliber machine gun and the acoustics on the hill top, you 
feel as if you’re in a combat zone. The deep reverberating pulses that the blast of the 
weaponry left in my chest, the slight ringing in my ears, the un-worldly feeling that 
something was going to land near me, gave me that very realistic feeling. 

Yet the children ran to and fro, laughing, playing; seeming oblivious to the horror that those 
sounds bring to our enemies. I am not sure if they even hear them, even think of them; are 
even aware of the violence of the world around them. To them and the other family 
members of this military community, they hear the sound of freedom. They hear the impact 
of dominance in a world where, (to them) they believe our nation cannot, will not experience 
defeat. Each and every impact is knowledge that their loved ones, (their Soldiers) the 
fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers will live in absolution of the sin that they have or will in 
the future commit in their country’s name. 

Thus leaving the arguable question out on the table, is it a sin? Will they go to hell? It is the 
disobedience of one of the commandments! Yet without hesitation we will pull the trigger and 
thank god that we live to see our loved ones again.

To that man or woman who walks onto their children’s school ground, unguarded. To the 
children who do not run to and fro, frolicking, laughing, and playing; to all who hear the 
impact of a mortar or the repetitive thrumming of the 50 cal. Where the acoustics are 
resounding off the cement buildings of your home and the laughter turns to horror, the 
screams turn to nightmare; where going to school is a threat to life. 

I am sorry, so sorry that the world sees even one human, one child, lover, mother, father, 
sister, or brother; I am sorry they see us as so insignificant as to place you/us in harm’s 
way. I apologize that they/we lift foot to step upon the masses. 

Be it a terrorist, a misguided bomb, or the rage of a stressed out soldier who takes innocent 
life because they believe it is right. We are all significant, we are relevant and to all… Should 
peace ever come at last…?

I pray it lasts until our very last march…

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Dear Diary

8th April 2011

Dear Diary,
"I never travel without my diary, one should always have something sensational to read...Woke up feeling great, I 
thought to myself 'I'm glad I've got him in my life'. I know I can be difficult sometimes and for that I'm sorry but I'm 
glad I'm his wife. We make a good team him and me, don't you think? Well I do anyway. My husband makes me 
laugh, plus he's warm and fuzzy I must say. kind of like a bear but not if you see what i mean. Not that he's as big 
as one mind you cos he's not and on him I am keen. Anyway Diary, I feel I'm just mumbling to you. Sorry to be 
boring you with these thoughts. I just need to write it down and get it off my chest of course, isn't that what your 
for? Right, must go, there's lots to do, thanks for listening. 

Bye for now,

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Don't Go Near The River

Don’t go near the river a tree has fallen down
The flow is blocked and it caused a dam if you fall in you could drown
But to us children this an invitation was
A big happening in our lives we had to see the cause
Of course we would not climb down to the tree
From high upon the bank we would satisfy our curiosity

Down Milfort Avenue we all trouped 
The excitement mounting with-in our group
The boys were there first of course
Down at the roots torn from the ground with such force
You girls they shouted stay away it was their find
Just go home play with your dolls and leave our tree behind
Well did you ever hear such rot 
We will soon show that lot

Mother’s warning soon forgot down we went to the spot
Those roots from up high did not seem so tall
But now down beside them we were made to feel small
Like gaint arms they were all slimy and wet
But we girls would conquer this climb you bet 
I never was brave and from the start
My legs were shaking and in my heart
I knew I should back down and risk being the fool
But pride would not let me so I tried to act cool

The others had climbed over and to the far side had gone
Knowing I was frightened they egged me on
Up I went onto that tree trunk
Looking down to the river below my heart sunk
What would I do if I fell in I had never learned to swim
Well it happened and into water I fell for my sins
Plunged to the bottom then up I floated gasping for air 
Again the depths called the water my death would share
With bravery someone dived in to save me from my watery grave
Trailed to the bank and with the water pumped out my life was saved

A neighbor heard the commotion and running came
Then into her house to recover my legs some strength to gain
For the walk back home to face Mum my misbehavior to declare
I really was a sorry sight but I did not care
Jumper and tartan skirt soggy the red dye running down my thighs
Perhaps she would think it was blood I had better start to cry

Water filled the fur lined leather boots which slopped and weighed a ton
My dad had worked for hours to pay for them and look what had I done
So sorry I was for myself but punishment I had to accept 
My friends there with me for support they stayed and yet
When Mum’s face through that front door appeared
They drifted away the blame they feared
In I was hauled and asked to explain
Why I had ignored her orders given so plain

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Dad, which way will this road go? 
I'm sorry Son, I do not know. 
It could go east. It could go west. 
I'm sorry Son, I know not what's best.

Will it be paved? Will it be cold? 
Son, for all I know it could be gold. 
It could be ash or maybe stone. 
I just don't know. Now leave me alone.

Will there be trees along the way 
or rolling fields with bales of hay? 
I told you Son, I've no idea. 
Now go away! Won't you please?

Dad, your'e no help, no help at all.
I may as well talk to a wall. 
I'm busy Son, a busy man. 
I can't always hold your hand.

I can not say which road to take. 
That's a decision you must make. 
The choice is yours. Now be off with you. 
Can't you see I've much to do?

Alright already, I can take a hint. 
You want me gone....At least I think. 
I'm leaving now. I'm out of here. 
I'll bother you no more. Have no fear!

I'm sorry Son. Please don't leave yet. 
I'm afraid if you do we will both have regrets. 
Can you give me a second? I'm just about through. 
Come sit with me boy. I want to talk to you.

My boy, my son; you are now a man. 
On your own two feet you must stand. 
Mistakes you'll make as have we all. 
You may fall down. You may stand tall.

I have given to you all that I am. 
Have some faith in yourself. Set your plans. 
And know my son that whatever you do, 
good or bad; I will always love you!

The Applethoughtrotten

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Beauty and the Unpublished Author

Far away in a little town tucked in the corner of a map
Lives the girl who ruined his heart
And broke his life

While with him she would smile and laugh so sweet
Tender as only she could be
In his heart she lit even the corners so deep

With time she became his definition of life
In all he did he had her in mind
Life wasn’t life without him seeing her smile

As moments grew into weeks
The flower of his heart started to reveal its wilt
In her eyes no longer was the sparkle he was used to seeing

Winds carried awful odour of their disorder
Tales went round of her illicit exploits behind the counter
The man with the shop at the corner savoured all the honey she offered

At first he dismissed the whispers with laughter
But soon he discovered he was the only one on the other side of reality’s border
Yes indeed, another prince had taken over

Trouble was how sincerely he loved her
Problem was that even she had only love to offer
Issue was he hadn’t yet sold a dime of the books he authored

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It was only suppose to had been just an innocent friendship
at least in the beginning that how it started out to be,
I was confident in believing that I could actualy be friends with him
but at that moment I was much too blind to had even seen.
That in all actuality he wanted more from me
way more that I was not able to give at that time,
I never had imagined in my wildest dreams
that just my very presence still remained on his cunning, devious mind.
He would always greet me with a sincere smile on a daily basis
whenever he would see me around in the neighborhood,
He accepted me for me with open arms and good graces
at that time he made me feel happy and good.
Suddenly, what started out as a friendship that was built on innocence
made a turn unto the path of regrettable sin,
That is when he made the bold step of taking advantage of my innocence
by wanting to be more than just friends.
At that tiem my life was filled with so much chaos and stress
and all seemed so dark and drear,
I felt that out of my life was gone all of my happiness
for myself I no longer gave a care.
He told me things that I had wanted to hear
for, it had been such a long time ago,
He had made all of my pain and despair disappear
he made me feel wanted and needed so.
But like a fool I had allowed him to take control of me
I was definitly in way over my head,
That night I found it so hard to believe
that I was actually in his bed.
After the sinful act had been over and completed
and I silently walked out of the door,
I asked myself: "Oh, God ! What on earth have I done?
I feel like such a whore!"
I cried and cried what seemed like an eternity
and I became violently physically sick,
What would my finace think of me?
was all I could ask myself at that moment.
That night when I had finally returned home
I got down on upon my knees and just prayed  to God for forgiveness,
That night I never felt so sad, confused, and all alone
cheating was not in my nature, only innocence.
I could not believe that I had hurt the man that I loved
by betraying him in that way,
I was so naieve in sharing one night of lust
with a man that just wanted to get laid.
I allowed myself to be put in a situation
a situation that had gone out of control,
I was just too weak to resist temptation
but right now, I am strong enough to know.

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These fingers were as restless
as a virile runner doing miles
around the fileld, never getting tired;
that young atlete must have been me...
pounding the keybord's keys
and writing another night away!
How can I get my lost frenzy back?
I get home at a quarter to one,
fix myself a cup of sweet tea,
hoping to fall asleep in an hour,
then glued to the computer screen,
I write another poem and enter a new contest;
and before I glance back at the clock,
it's already five o' clock a. m. and constantly
yawning, I moan with malcontent!
Only once, I promised myself
to take a break and let my fingers rest;
and that promise I broke with an incredible urge:
the very next day, I went back...
with the slowness of a hunch-back,
knowing that I had lied to myself...
I didn't regret my cheating on my weary fingers! 
How could I have done such a naughty thing to them?
And now, I am typing very slowly
as if I am having a writer's block,
they are punishing me for being too unfair!
Oh, I should have shown a little pity for them,
let them relax an entire week...forgetting they existed;
and they would have appreciated my concern and kindness!

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He sits at a booth and orders for everyone:
"Eliza will have a strawberry lemonade
and a salad, no dressing;
Hubert will take an ice-cold beer
to wash down his steak;
my grandmother, here, will have the chicken
and green beans;
and I suppose I'd like the duck."
The waitress responds to his requests:
"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but I’m terribly confused.
I see no Eliza to serve a lemon or salad;
and Hubert’s not here to prove he’s of age.
Your grandmother, dear, I’m afraid isn’t here;
and we don’t have duck here to put on your plate.
I'm sorry to say, mister, 
but you are alone.
No one is here with you tonight."
He stares up at her, baffled—
two tangled prisms absorbing dim light
"Miss, I insist, please bring me the food.
My friends and I have grown weary
from battle and war and we need to dress our wounds. 
Miss, can’t you see that we’re brutally beaten?"
"Sir, I’m sorry to say that you are not damaged
or beaten in any kind of way. Your clothing is bright
and your hair is all combed. 
You are still very much alone."
He stands up straight and sighs,
"a man is born alone and so, alone is how he dies."

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Mulling Over

He was not a Rock Hudson
Nor she a Marilyn
But it was a glance
Maybe, perchance
She paused in thought
Yet, she felt that she ought – 
To return that smile
For it seemed worthwhile.
Did she over react
Or was it a fact
Is there time to consider
Or does something forbid her.
In a crowded hall
No time to stall.
Another glance
Now is her chance
Must not debate
Or could be too late
Oh, he's moved out of view
Now what does she do
Then, gone out of sight
Not a hope, not tonight.

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He Has Me

He Has ME

You act like a victim my dear

Though I promise you, you're not the victim here

We did absolutly nothing to you

But if you want to act like we did that go ahead and do

We dont really care what you have to say

Because we would rather you just walk away

You are simply drama that no one needs

So dear stop with the pointless pleads

No one cares what you have to say

When you messed with his head in that way

You may regret leaving him honey

But that doesnt change the fact that he has me

Only insecure people want revenge dear

SO just think about how YOU must APPEAR

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Music For The Deaf

Once in awhile, I get so low I can feel myself falling faster into the quick sand. In this case, your love is the pit in which I’m sinking. Can you not hear me crying out for help? Because, I swear I can’t do this on my own. I need you to pull me up.. I guess you don’t see that inside I’m all shook up. I’ll be better off without you, that way I can get myself up and dressed out of this mess. You use me for your own good, but what about my sanity? This lovesick melody that I keep singing to is tearing apart the innocence of me. If you can’t see that, then why do I keep on trying to catch up to you? You won’t have to hear about it anymore though, I’m done with what you made me out to be. I’m too good to be set up by a fool like you! You’ll see one day, my dear. This melody that had me dying inside, is nothing more than music to the deaf now! But, don’t worry.. Maybe, one day you’ll see.. Just Don’t come back to me.

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-I'm Only Human-

Fell head over heals at 17
He was my first love and first love
He was larger than life, to me
Thought this is the one
What can I say, I'm only human

He asked and I did
He wanted and I gave
I opened and was his
don't remember exactly when time changed
He got upset and I blamed me
He screamed and I showed my fear
I never thought to protect myself, I was his
another day to you, but for me it changed my identity
He threw that first blow, and I fell stunned
He bruised my face, arms and body, and all I could say was "sorry"
I didn't see it coming, I was his
we were supposed to be happy, expecting our first baby
He lied and I cried
He cheated and I just looked the other way
I stayed and put up with the abuse because I was his
our daughter was six months old when time changed, again
He yelled and beat me till I was bloody and blue, and I kept saying in my 
head "Hurry up and get it over with."
He woke-up the baby and I knew, knew what he was about to do
I tried to block that fist, but he connected with her and I was no longer his

I fell out of love at the age of 20
He might of been my first, but he became my last
He was no longer larger than my life
He would never be that one
Had to learn the hard way, I'm only human

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Running down an empty street
Her feet sore
Crying, she can't stop 
Believe me, she won't
She's hurting
Because of you
Why me, she asks so silently
Why do you do this to me, she whispers in his ear
Then she disappears

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Opening a Place

An empty darkness
Unable to fill
People walk slowly
In wonder of your will

Then they shoot nasty
Unhumane, and cold
Questions about how 
You live in this mold

And it is disturbing
How often something
Is said about
How often you are bumbling

When the world is about 
To fall on your face 
Only one thought comforts you
And its about losing your place

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Depth of discomfort

What a day! It’s pouring so hard . . .
I’d to go to the airport to pick up somebody
a wet day! ‘un día mojado’, such a day, indeed!
but, I’d to go for he must have arrived already.

When I got there passengers in drove were elsewhere,
cabs, vans, trucks, and many cars were waiting;
while waiting outside, a sheriff came telling us to move on
that made me decide to make another round and see
if he’d be when I come back to pick him up.

However, he hadn’t emerged as yet and therefore,
I decided to take another round and park the car;
still pouring, oh Lord of the Most High!
I found it difficult to get back with certain roads closed
especially in Terminal A where I was heading for;
indeed, what a day! What a disaster! What a mess, so to say.

I felt so sorry for him for that long procession of waiting
Hours in waiting while struggling to find other ways
to meet him – his Excellency, whose eyes were whitened
waiting, waiting, what an annoying day!
then traffic congestion greeted us on our way,
another experience, another test of patience.

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I remember it was spring, of that year when we met.
Natures beauty, new love, so passionate.

The early spring flowers, young lovers in life,
So strong was our passion, would you be my wife?

The warm sun, the bright days, we laughed oh so often.
Our love in full bloom, our hearts in full blossom.

Fall colors such beauty, but nights turn to cold
Part of life’s cycle, we start to grow old.

We laugh and we cry, our love still remains.
We embrace with such joy, and share all the pains.

And now I’m alone, the nights seem so long.
With a shiver or two, I don’t feel as strong.

Oh, for just, one more springtime with you.
My heart would reblossom, from the love we both new.

I remember our joys, the seasons we shared.
I remember our love and the way we both cared.

The nights still grow colder, the fire becomes dim.
I pray to be warmed, by my memories within.

Copyright Tom Welch

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To The Band Of Brothers From Viet Nam

What did I do when I was a kid?
    Loved life, had fun that’s what I did.
Enjoyed what I had, and had what I enjoyed.
    Never to be bothered seldom ever annoyed.
Stood tall, felt proud, proud of this country, The Home Of The Free!
    Proud to be an American, lucky to be a part of such a great society.
Then something happened that ripped this country apart.
    It was called a police action but it ripped and tore at the very soul of this country 
it tore at her heart.
 Was it right or was it wrong?
    So many mixed emotions were played out in the words of yesteryears songs.
The seventy’s brought on free love, drugs, and the start of a decline in our morals 
in this story.
    Viet Nam brought both shame and honor, but very little was given in the name 
of glory.
Many young Americans lost their life or were crippled and maimed.
   And had to come home to a country that held them in contempt or made them 
feel ashamed.
They were pushed aside refused work treated like second class dirt.
    And what did they do they too had feelings they too could hurt.
We blamed our soldiers instead of the politicians that sent them there.
    They were the ones that were dying but no one seemed to care.
So to the Viet Nam Vets I say I for one am proud of you this very day.
   And may God Bless you all each and every one is the prayer for you I pray.
And maybe someday there will no longer be wars are reason for blood shed.
   In thanks to The Band Of Brothers from Nam we should all give thanks as we 
bow our heads.

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Getting Next To Me Pt.1

I was on the other line
With a close homey of mine
About football and wrestling
Bin-Laden and Bush
After a half hour
I told him that I'll get back
Cause I had to wash
And cook
As soon as I
Was About to put the phone on the hook____---""'Bleepp!"""
Me:)I'm just getting off the phone because I got some thangs to do
Her):True. We all do
Me)So I'll get back with you later on
Her:)Will it be an hour or two before I can see you? I'll be home.
Me:)Look!! My lady is coming here for the night after her third shift
Her:) ... So,....Should I be on my way right now?!?
Me:) Can't you see I have someone coming over?
Her:) Yeah. I'll be there with your favorite.  Steak, sweet potatoes, rice and tomato 
gravy. A fifth of Hennessy and a Coca-Cola
Me:) You're not just somebody I just met!! What we had is in the past.  
Remember? Or is it that you rather not forget?
Her;) A week ago!! So! It's Like That!!
Me:) i...........I Guess so
Her:) With all that so call game...Huh, I bet you don't  even know the score]
Me:) What! I'm hanging up.
Her:) Fine with me,  but just one more thing baby. Look out your front door.
( She was right outside in my yard parking right next to me.)

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What is it about?

What does he have on me, that would make you leave me
How do I live without you
Go on like there was never a we
Two years of relationship, now it’s just me
Never saw you leaving after all the times
Your telling me, your never coming back
Your love for me has played out its lines
You expect me to just continue to live without
The love you put on me, what was that about

I put it all on the line so many times
Made so many changes to make it right
Found all this love to please 
Now you betray me with ease
If it was that easy for you to leave
Then love for me you said you had, I can’t believe

That song you sing is the same, from yesterday
Didn’t think I would catch it
Now why you handle your baby that way
At least that’s the way you use put it
Now you don’t even sleep on your own pillow
Running up behind some marshmallow negro
I weather the good and bad of you
Took all the stuff you put me through
Yet still I wasn’t enough
The bad in you, that front, that bluff
Had me all caught up with the good scene of you
Now you’ve moved on, B-jay ends & now it’s part two
Seems like just yesterday we were together, now I'm through with you

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Misery + Ecstasy

"my ecstasy is my misery,"

and she swallowed the pill,
counting the minutes that
separated their difference:

misery and ecstasy, walking
hand-in-hand through the rut
in the valley of denial, drowning
so deep in waves of blurred
stimulation; hopeless, her nerves
rushing past the speed of pain,
only to slide through her fingertips
back onto another pill that,
yet again,

she clutches like a sleepless lover
in the glow of capsules and a blacklit
agony; her heart beats erratically-
a prisoner waiting to break free
from its cage, and feel life, smoothly
coursing through her veins,
as she swallows-

her pulse spikes and eyes roll back
to a place of no thought; no judgment
to measure just what she's living for,
looking for, or why - a fairytale land
of neon greens and electric
a place where she's alone
just enough to be comfortable
in a room full of dead light and
decaying relationships; 
she turns her back, knowing
she'll be stabbed, bound, tied and

but this way,
no one will notice her eyes
head lolling
back, moving
to the violent heartbeat-
stifling her mumbled pleas
of lonely syllables
not a soul will hear -

just bring me back"

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Frightful Friday

you and your friends are chilling
when you spotted this man through the crowd
he walks up to you
you're smitten
happy that you caught his eye
the both of you are dancing then he asks you do you want a drink
not thinking you quickly respond
yes, get me a coke please
as you're dancing and drinking
your heart beats faster, so you start to sweating
you can't think, it's hard to focus
your eyelids get heavy, but it's not from being sleepy
you've past out just to wake up to a man forcing himself upon you
you're trying so hard to push him off
but your body is numb
what's left to do but cry?
it hurts your heart to know that your virginity is being taken by a man you've just met
your body is so fragile, but he doesn't care
when he finished he got up and left you there
should you tell?
would they believe you?
your friend finds you in the room
and quickly calls 911
she's praying and wishing that you're okay
you'll never want to go out again
all because of that FRIGHTFUL NIGHT

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A Lovers Spat


I’m mad she said as she slammed the door,
    I’ve never seen her act this way before.
She’ll be back I keep telling myself as I stand there staring at the door.
    What if this is really it, and she can’t take no more?
I have to stop her as my mind races ahead,
     Why do I hurt her, I really didn’t mean the things I said.
Baby I said I am wrong, I knew all along you were right.
     Please don’t leave I am sorry I started this fight.
She turned and looked at me, and said don’t you know I love you?
    I said yes, yes I do, I don’t know why I say those things to you.
She said you’re my life you’re the reason I live.
    I’ve given you my heart, what more can I give?
As we stand there both in tears,
     Recalling all the happiness we’ve shared throughout the years.
Why do we spend so much time hurting each other?
     I’m your wife, dang it not your mother.
Her words spoke the truth while cutting so deep.
     I finally see and I’m sorry I’ve been such a creep.
As we walk back to the house emotionally drained.
     Holding each other’s hand thanking God our love still remains.

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I’m sorry that I loved you
And that you didn’t love me.
I’m sorry you weren’t good enough 
To be there for me.

I’m sorry you were ashamed 
Of our life.
And you didn’t respect me
As your wife.

Now, I’m over you 
And you want to come back to me.
Say that you’re wrong
And that you’re sorry.

Well, I’m now the one that’s sorry
And this is true.
I’m sorry I ever wasted 
My time over you.

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My apology

 Perhaps I owe the government an apology.
   I found your hiding place of in God We Trust for all the world to see.
On the edge of the coin stamped so small is where the words are at.
   I should have known it was a mind game you’re pretty good at that.
I‘m really not sorry for what I said I still think you’re jerks.
   I don’t lie so I have cleared myself of these dirty works.
On the dollar coin that I have it’s not hiding in a nook. 
   Not on the front or on the back you can find it on the edge but you really have to 
 Where it is at it will wear off fast I guess this was the plan.
      Well I apologize for what I said I am an honest man.

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Sunshine when it's rains

Sunshines when it rains
In order 4 a flower 2 grow you have 2  have
sunshine and rain
heartache and pain
dis likes and likes

nThroughout life you will always have ur set of trials. 
But you can never be a winner unless u over come the obstacles that are 
constantly surrounding you.
I did it why cant u
that's the thing 
you can make it
with God
as ya strength anything is possible
Just belive and it shall come 2 pass......

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I Wonder Why?

Many people die
with tear in their eye
with the thought of suicide in their mind
with one last cry
these innocent people die
I wonder why?
all these people being born
in the wrong places
and the wrong times
They grew up only knowing how to commit crimes
or how to sit in the streets asking for a couple of dimes
these people go home
only to be told
"you'll never mount to anything"
but they are only sixteen
this world can be so cold
so these people grow up doing the same thing
they did when they were sixteen
only this time they aren't as clean
they grew up only knowing how to be mean
one day they get tired of the crap
they look down and see the gun on their lap
they pick it up
and put it to their head
and with a sound of a BANG!
They become a person of the dead.

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I’m tired of the lies 
And all the frustration.  
I don’t want love
If it means frustration.

I’m tired of you trying
To hold me down.
If you want a real friend
Quit kidding around.

I’m tired of playing 
Playing games is not for me,
If you don‘t want my love
Just set me free.

I’m tired of waiting 
For you to see 
That I’m tired of you 
Treating me selfishly.

If you think that I’m joking
You must be joking too.
To put it simply 
I’m just tired of you.

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I Told You So

   Of course you can come back home dear you know you don't even have to ask.
Yes ,I'm sorry it didn't work out,but it was in his eyes ,you can always tell by their 
eyes you know. wierd and shifty or something,yes.
   It will be nice to have you home again.We can get back into our old routine.
we'll watch all our soaps and then play scrabble.I'll give you a fifty point 
lead,how's that?Then after that we can watch our exercise show.
I haven't been doing it without you.
   I know it's difficult now but just go with the flow,this too shall pass,
remember?It's so true .Just like last time.You felt better in two weeks
didn't you? well okay then,same thing.
  Just get a grip now and don't cry.I'm always here for you,you know that.
No I promise not to say it but you know it's true .
Tonight we'll go for a walk and get ice cream just like always
Just don't give him my new phone number.He hates me you know
Someone told me he wants to actually kill me .Says it's my fault.
It's not my fault that he's a big loser!
when was the last time he actually had a job?
His mother makes his car payment and he does have two
children that he never sees
Is that my fault?
Okay,okay I'm sorry but a mother knows what's best for her own child
just wait until you have children,
then you will understand.
you can always tell by there eyes and that young man has weird eyes!
can't you see that?

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Sweet Pea

Please hold my hand right now
Help me
I'm scared, please show me how
To fight this
I'll wait for you to understand
And I'm being as patient as I can
If you come back sweet pea
I'll know just what to say
I promise I won't turn away
Every night wanting to feel your body heat
On your bed through the sheet
I've thought of every pretty little thing to whisper in your ear
Recalling the way I felt when you first touched me there
I pray we'll apprecaite each other more
By making it through
Will you be the way that I remember you?
Holding you to my chest
My one desire is to please you
You know you're not like the rest
After I smile I have to cry
Becasue you're not there to see me look beautiful
When I laugh I want your eyes upon my face
And I want your hand where my hands trace
We'd both be happy then
Loving every breath of you
Can't believe I let you slip away
Was there anything I could say?
I think I'm falling apart
You're what I think of when I fall asleep 
And wake up
Did you think of the rest of our lives too?
Like you said we'd love each other after one year
I'll kiss you the way you want
We'll have a big yellow house
I'll be whatever you need
In that picture perfect place
If you come back sweet pea
I'll know what to say
I promise I won't turn away
Alone in a summer night
I want to know you again
You make me think everything I do is right 

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I Remember

I remember when I was born.
The memories have not gone.
He is like a girl, not a man.
Made to feel, I cost a lot.
Better off without this Tot.

I remember.not enough to eat.
From the table, hungry go.
Stealing wind  falls, from the snow.
Hiding under the table, to escape.
Cups and plates, they throw.
Shouting and screaming,  
Here they go
I hear it still.

I remember my school days.
Standing face to wall.
Getting the cane, for nothing at all.
When time to go home, the bullies I see.
The gang is waiting for me.

I remember the black eye.
Walked into a lamp post, I did lie.
Torn cloths, They are not new, ploy.
Go to your room, you naughty boy.

I  remember late at night,
Hearing a noise that made me fright.
Under the blanket I froze.
Who's there nobody knows.
Running in my mind.
Not moving and blind.

I remember running with all my might,
To escape a fight.
Survival lay in flight
Crying and screaming.
God help me.

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The words we say, can destroy or make,
a persons pride, and the way they feel inside.

If you are the one, that has caused the pain,
stand up, and ask forgiveness, take the blame.

Some are stubborn, and they do no wrong,
don't be surprised, if you are suddenly alone.

The strength it takes, to be that one,
will give you contentment, even if they think they won.

Many have spoken such words of regret,
straight from the heart, where forgiveness is kept.

Your life will be better, and your heart will be free,
this is one of the gifts, God instilled in you, and me.

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Just a Fling

It started off as just a fling 
Nothing serious a simple thing 
Then my love for her grew deep 
It became hard for me to sleep 
People said we were too young 
Though we were she was the one 
Even still with feelings strong 
I was forced to do her wrong 
Cause I was just a scared young boy 
I played with her like a toy 
Then one day first period came 
I heard that girl shout my name 
I looked at her and walked away 
Not knowing her changes every day 
From the secrets that she had 
I learned that I would be a dad 
My time with her I did deny 
Now I wish I didn't lie 
She looked at me with such disgust 
In my words she once did trust 
How could I put her through such pain 
So I could be arrogant and vain 
Now the day is drawing near 
Would she still love me was my fear 
Or was my timing way too late 
To regain her trust and change our fate 
When I approached with teary eyes 
Her love for me she did not deny 
She told me that she loved my so 
And she never wanted me to go
She formed me to a whole new man
One who could love and understand
So with the largest stomach at graduation
I was her rock her foundation
And as those 9 months they quickly passed
I thought our love would forever last
One night she called and I awoke
When she yelled "MY WATER BROKE"
Just as fast as my happiness came
All my sunshine turned to rain
The doctors made me leave the room
At once there were screams that made my ears boom
I tried to suck it up and hold in my pride
But when I said I was okay it was all a lie
The doctor came out all teary eyed
"the girl u loved, she instantly died"
"but your baby sir she's healthy and safe
6 pounds 9 ounces that is her weight"
When I looked at you all I could do was smile
My pain left me for a little while
Now in you your mother she lives
In the sparks in your eyes and the warmth in your kiss
And though it started off as just a fling
To me your mother was everything

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An Execution

I had an uncle that died in the electric chair,
   He deemed his punishment was just and quite fair. 
One mistake is all it takes to ruin your life,
   He might still be alive now but he used his knife.
A young man who was down on his luck, 
   Dove deep into the bottle his life had gone amuck.
He had lost his job then his wife followed suit,
   She wasn’t real understanding when it came to not having very much loot.
He tried his best to win her back,
    But she flat out told him it was money he lacked.
He pleaded and he begged but she laughed in his face,
    He’d lost all self respect he felt like he had become a total disgrace.
He turned to the drink and he even did drugs,
    Started hanging out with nothing but thugs.
Started out stealing small just to stay high,
    His family begged him to quit but he was too far gone to even try.
He tied in with the devil, he thought to be his only friend,
    Till that one night it happened as the devil lead him to his end.
He was just going to rob her till she started screaming and crying they both were 
overcome with fear
    Scared he pulled his knife to silence her this friend he’d known through the 
As he left her dying on the floor in a most awful gruesome sight,
    He ran but he couldn’t escape what he’d become or the out come of that night.
They caught him without incident and he confessed to his crime,
    He said I’m sorry for what I’ve done but that’s not good enough this time.
The jury all found him guilty of murder in the first degree,
    As the judge said Lord have mercy on your soul for I issue you the death 
As he waited his time he made peace with the Lord,
    As the day grew closer that had to have been hard.
Well it’s over and done and he paid his dues,
    But I loved that old guy and sometimes it gives me the blues.
What he did was wrong I’ll be the first to agree’
    But the side I knew the jury never got to see.

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I Thought You Cared

You said you loved me
That you cared about me
But it was all a lie
You never loved me
And you never really cared
All you wanted was to take advantage of my innocence
I trusted you
I thought you had changed your ways
That’s why I went for a walk with you
And that's why I let him leave
You started to kiss me
I was ok with that
You slid your cold hand into my pants
I told you to stop
You didn’t listen to me
I jumped back with fear in my eyes
You pulled me close to your warm body
The next thing I know I’m on the cold, damp ground 
The sent of fresh cut grass all around me
Feeling your body on top of mine
I weekly whisper for you to stop
Once more you didn’t listen to me
Never really thinking 
Of how I would feel inside  

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“This place stinks, let’s get out of here,
  let’s paint the town and have some fun.”
“Give me a sec, let me grab my books,”
  I would reply and hurriedly we would run. 

Cutting classes in our suburban school,
we'd dash off to the nearest watering hole,
then drink like tomorrow would never come, 
stumbling out at midnight when we were done.

Wasting summer days on drinks and songs,
flirting with pretty waitresses all night long;
rather predictable but that was our routine,
we would get our fill, it was our usual scene.

Bosom buddies and so it seemed but that was then.

Built our careers to meet both our family’s needs
till the pressure to succeed was a knot in your head.
Though I’d often prod you to take things in stride,
your impatience was just impossible to hide.

When I made it quite big and became wealthy 
you fumed ‘The damn bastard is just plain lucky.’
When I built a mansion and acquired properties,
you felt left out and thought I was greedy.

You looked at your failures vis-a-vis my success,
wondering why you didn’t have more but less.
Yours was a friendship built on shifting sands,
easily dismissed by a mere wave of your hand. 

In our carefree days on board the same boat,
you know, it did not take much effort to float.
Yet years later when I started to get ahead
’twas when Mr. Hyde reared his ugly head.

So, old buddy, here is a toast and a cheer
for all the years we spent drinking our beer.
No need to feel sentimental counting the cost
nor feel regrets for what we may have lost.
For how could we lose what wasn’t there at all,
it was just make-believe, that’s all.