I am a coward with open sores.
I write and wonder who it bores.
I hear my heart and mind argue repeatedly.
I see others carrying out my dreams;
that’s what’s defeated me.
I am a coward with open sores.
I pretend open doors are closed, and walk the other way.
I touch base with the fear in my heart, tearing me apart,
leaving nothing to say...
I worry the world will leave me.
I cry because no one believes in me.
I am a coward with open sores.
I understand nothing comes easy.
I say I’m happy, but even I don’t believe me.
I dream I am healed and brave.
I try to overcome my weaknesses before I’m in my grave.
I hope you hear me.
I’m on all fours.
I am a coward with open sores.
© 2011 ~JSLaM
* 1st PLACE in Contest "MARCH MADNESS" Sponsored by C. Devonshire 2011
* 1st PLACE in Contest "ONE OFF" Sponsored by Brian Strand 5/11/2011
* 1st PLACE in Contest "BEST EVER" Sponsored by P.D. 2011
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2011
His fragile fevered brow is soaked with life’s sweat
Nearing the end, his death has not arrived just yet
Shivering, his body is on fire, he makes a gentle sigh
His frame broken down by the years now passed by
The end of the final chapter, his book has grown old
Soon in a faith filled church, his past tales will be told
He’s a person, loved, surrounded by his living history
His family hold one another, parts of his closing story
Go quietly now love, for the time has come to move on
Hush now, your wearied tiredness, is oh so nearly gone
Soon the warmth of living will become so stiff and cold
Leaving this earth’s dusty soil, so as to join an eternal fold
He enters deaths doorway that will close quickly behind
A peace beyond imagination, a kind welcome he will find
Tears flow, fond goodbyes are spoken a kiss of farewell
Do not mourn too long have faith, know he is now well.
Patrick Brennan © 2010
Copyright © Patrick Brennan | Year Posted 2010
I'm overcome with grief
as I slowly die inside.
They tell me this is normal,
and everything will be alright.
I can't seem to eat a meal,
or close my eyes to dream.
All I visualize is your face,
then accidentally scream.
I can't seem to leave my home,
whats the point anyways?
Without you standing by my side
life is nothing but a waste.
Maybe soon enough I'll join you,
as I slowly die inside.
When I finally enter the gates of pearl
everything will be alright.
Copyright © Ashley Beaudre | Year Posted 2009
I do not know?
Fear is what they clothe them in.
Fear of losing their life because of one mistake.
Fear of losing their life because an officer is having
a bad day.
Some say it's not racism;
"It's police brutality."
Whatever you call it, I can't
help but ask "where is humanity?"
Mothers weeping because they're losing their sons.
Teaching them to fight back with silence
but that is no weapon compared to a gun.
Six feet under, leaving families to fight for justice
over their lives.
Societies getting tired of it all-
starting riots and constructing strikes.
How many more time will history repeat itself?
Or are we still writing [his]tory , using coverups
All lives matter despite of their race.
All lives matter despite their mistakes.
In times such as these justice will demand to be served.
No matter how chaotic, crazy, or obscured.
Life is a gift, one that we should all treasure.
Because all lives matter and we need to protect them;
no matter the measure.
Copyright © Amber Binford | Year Posted 2014
R.I.P. William Dale Eubanks
d. July 1, 2012, aged 68 yrs., Tennessee Ridge, Tennessee
Death came as no surprise
the first Sunday in July;
it claimed you, on a ridge in Tennessee,
with kin who took you in and waited with you
through the last hard days.
You kept what fears you had well hid,
did not betray with loud complaint
the fate you could not but know awaited.
A smile, a joke, a hug – exotic meals –
And genuine interest greeted all you met.
And you were, certainly, never boring
but well-traveled and smart
beyond the telling.
We’ll miss your wit, your bright demeanor,
and will remember all you freely gave ---
and what you took from us
with your passing.
Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2012
There once was a day I would watch every airplane.
Praying you was on it to come take me away.
As a child I wanted you around until the day, you actually came.
The day you came is the day my life forever changed.
I remember as if it was yesterday when you physically violated me.
Mental visions as early as the age of eight, but old enough to vociferate.
Visualizing mental pictures in my mind while I am awake very aware of the improper abuse I take.
Your body on me feels something like an autopsy of a dead body.
While you lay on top of me as you press aggressively on me.
Against my will your force kept me still.
I am trying to understand if you recognize who I am.
I try to say no hoping you can comprehend; I am weakling as you apprehend.
Mentally and physically I became involuntarily your property.
A main character in a horror story, and you were my predatory.
I asked “God why?” as I bare to stare into his eyes.
This is not thee love I seek; all I wanted was my father to love me, but not like this injustice of violation of my rights.
This love is not real; not the love I wished to feel.
As he tries to stick his tongue into my mouth too young to know what this is all about.
I grip my lips painfully tight as he tries to slip his tongue inside.
I close them tighter with all my might, as he whispers, “let me love you right”
I beg him to leave as he pried my legs open with his knees my insides scream “somebody please help me!”
As he whispers how much he loves me I’m praying for God to just kill me.
I rather be dead then a man’s punching bag.
As I lay there my body was dead, and I laid my soul to rest.
I looked around the room and seen the Old Spice on the desk the same fragrance he wore around his neck.
The sun began to rise as he began to close my thighs.
In that moment in time I had made up my mind any man that ever say they love me was just telling lies.
I learned the hard way that love does not kill your inside; love does not take your pride.
A fatherless child I shall forever reside.
Every day that passes that little eight-year-old girl dies slowly inside.
Asking Jesus,” Why permit this?” and he slowly whispers…as I gently whimpers, “faith is the light that guide you through the darkness, my words reflecting as a lamp unto my feet.”
“Walk unto my path I’m here to carry the weak, come into me you are weary and overburdened. I will carry the pain you have obtained.”
“I am your father and you are my child you are never fatherless because I’m always around.”
Copyright © twanna Irisha | Year Posted 2012
My heart was in such pain
I felt like I was going to go insane
I just don't know what to do
And my eyes full of tears that distort my view
I fell to my knees and felt the urge
My muscle tighten and pin needles struck me like a surge
My body was warm and with feelings so confused
My mind felt sadness had fused
I could not conquer my fears
I just sat down and fell into tears
When some close to you passes on
It felt like a warmth has gone
So I raised my hand towards a box that was empty with no tissue
I first was embarrass and had a little bit of issue
All my friends hugged me and said sorry for your loss
So now I cry in my bed and toss
April 14, 2013
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
Another cup of coffee spilt,
Upon an egg-shell shirt of silk.
It didn’t really have a chance,
Caught up in all the circumstance.
It cracked against the tabletop,
A trembling hand from whence it dropped.
It didn’t mean to get in the way,
It just so happened, was, that day.
“On purpose”, it had set him off,
One gulp and he began to cough.
My fault, I know, he drank too soon -
And banged it down against the spoon.
Enraged, he throws the cup at me,
Still steaming like a cup of tea;
I caught the cup - it’s mould intact,
But couldn’t catch the water’s slap.
While standing there I caught his too,
And felt my cheek turn black and blue;
It slipped out of my hand and fell,
And smashed apart like oyster shell.
It’s my mess, I’ll mop it up ~
I broke my favourite coffee cup.
Copyright © Tammy Armstrong | Year Posted 2006
He glances out the window,
And watches the sunset,
But he doesn’t see the beauty,
Nor the warm rays which,
Pierces through the glass,
Only the anticipation and,
Anxiety of a long night,
Carefully, he watches,
The colors change,
First the bright orange,
"God I pray this never ends…"
Filling with a deep red,
"Just a little while longer…"
Slowly softening to the,
Deceptive pinks and purples,
"Please, one more minute…"
Fading into the crimson black,
Which only night can bring,
Reluctantly, he gets ready for sleep,
Yet, knows it will never come,
He tossed and turns,
Half praying, half waiting,
Knowing what will happen,
In the way only a child can,
A light! It peeks through a crack,
In the door as a shadow floods the opening,
Quickly, the figure slips through the door,
And shuts it softly, but not without the,
Empty creak which has become so familiar,
The shadow climbs in beside him,
Touching his trembling leg, whispering,
“Hush little brother, it’ll be alright,
While I’m here, have no fear,
I’ll keep you safe tonight,”
He struggles and writhes,
Sadly knowing he will never,
Break the grip and prays to faint,
To loss all consciousness and,
Memory of that horrible night,
Just for one night without the pain,
Just for one night without,
The cold empty feeling,
Several years pass, too many to count,
A single call, one he had never expected,
He rushes to the hospital to find,
His tormentor for so many years,
Lying on a cold, hard bed,
Able to move, but only by pushing a button,
Able to speak, but only with a whisper,
He stays by him for weeks, caring for him,
Reading to him, watching over him,
Still suffering, still unable to move,
He takes his brother home,
The day goes on, moving slow as all,
The evening comes and he,
Watches once more as the sun sets,
Carefully watching, Orange to red,
Red to purple, and as the purple turns to black,
He walks into the room where his brother lies,
Slowly, he sits next to him, holding a pillow,
Stroking his head whispering,
“Hush big brother, it’ll be alright,
While I’m here, have no fear,
I’ll keep you safe tonight,”
The difference between right and wrong,
Can be hard to find,
But who’s there to see you,
When justice is blind?
Copyright © Ian Sylvester | Year Posted 2006
So much I wanted to say. So much I wanted to shout.
It was like being trapped behind bars without a way
to get out.
My mind going wild with all these questions of why.
The only way to escape was to fall asleep or to cry.
What did I do so bad that made me have to pay?
My friends, my dreams, and my life was swepped away.
I know I can do it! I try and I try.
Nothing seems to get better. I sometimes wish
I would Die.
Starved for attention. I wanna talk to the world.
I just miss being loved. Miss the warmth of a girl.
Snickers and stairs is what my life has become.
I'm treated like I'm a kid, like I'm sick, or I'm dumb.
One day to the next. Life becomes work just to be alive.
I thank god for my blessings. I thank god I survived.
I finally see some improvement. More hope tickles
It was worth all the time, all the tears, all the pain.
I awake with a smile and new hope to move on.
I did it! I did it! All those hard times are gone!
Copyright © Travis Flasnick | Year Posted 2009
Mother’s dirty offender seeded life that demanded nurture, demanded attention….
Demanded unforeseen fate
Twins, thrust upon her…. strained to love, and yet….
This happening urged her to live
Her head lifted, agitated,
Soaked from head to toe in the sweat of her labors…
The sight of blood reached her tear-blurred eyes heightening the pain
As she cried…
“May I toil till love reaches the mouth of hurt he inflicted!!!”
And, as her thrashing heart ceased beating,
The dear children, were born, one screaming, one gazing…
The other’s neck protruding from a little chest…
Big eyes observing, squinting, shuddering….
Mouth sputtering… and breath ceasing….
This little girl was born, a woman Mother once was—
Her death a source and justification to hate all men
A dreamy-eyed artist with yearnings driving her under,
Lips pure as newfound blossom, kissed once, though never plucked
Reaching for skies that welcomed her wishes,
Her seldom smiles brought tears to the sun
Her hair in curls of silk did bounce upon her back,
As every roving eye could not hold back,
The moist little build-up of awe…
Mouth ajar, for there lived upon this growing girl, surely…. no flaw
Save to her, tormenting imperfection….
For there… heavier and heavier everyday….the secret upon her chest—
Her poor dead brother,
Loved religiously by her martyr mother
Whom she hid under layers of clothes with much shame,
Never to reveal to the men who yearned to see her
Brother was always there, staring into the void,
A tumor child, shriveled, though gazing
A wretched burden to the girl now woman,
Her heart pounding with unanswered questions…
“Father...” She whispered, alone.
“Salt upon the wound, worthless is one consumed,
By death dangling upon my very chest…
I cannot live life like the rest,
The pretty girls of age, with plump and polished breast,
With skin revealed so freely,
Smiles countless, and genuinely……….
See, when a woman is just a woman,
Her opportunities are as easy as her grin,
And her future is clear as her flawless skin…
She bears no little boy attached to her heated body,
She enjoys little frivolous walks in arms she trusts…
Chance seemingly on their side…
Chance with me, dying, where Brother has died…
My heart could not bear to remove Brother,
Though even death I do not fear….
Father, I ask…now why,
Why am I here…?
And why are they gone?
All of them….Mother….Brother…..and…. him….”
Standing up, her face hardened
She put on her clothes and makeup, as was her routine,
And with a multicolored scarf she wrapped around her neck and chest
Covering the outline of her ever-gazing Brother
She could not think away from the scarf…
From what was gazing under…
And upon meeting another,
Anxiety raided her every being…
So afraid….and so unsure….
We are born,
Either man, or woman…
Acceptance of one another’s differences and flaws
Reduces fear of self, replenishes the soul
And love, above all,
Must meander through complications, defects, and serendipity
With a grace only leading one to fulfillment and happiness
-Inspired by Justin Bordner’s ‘When a Woman is Just a Woman’ contest
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015
my heart breathes its last breath
Embraces its own death
Ready to be reborn
and made anew
Can’t live a lie
Refuse to “do”
and I’ll DIE....
Focus now on why I’ll live
And never touch the sky.
I have to forget you
I have to reject you
But I will never love anyone
like I loved you.....
I heard you whisper
and you never knew it
I wiped the tears from your eyes
But you couldn’t feel it
You’re lost and you’ll never find you
And neither will I
And I’m so sorry--
but I’m NOT.
I'll attempt to reset
Try to forget
But you know, I never will.
Be my dirty little secret
My very worst-kept secret
Sweet, smooth, beautiful poison
My infernal and endless attraction
towards complete and utter self-destruction
I fell in love with the devil
And it will take one heck of an angel
To save me from the likes of you....
my dream never to come true
Oh, I’ll never forget the times
we never shared
I’ll never forget
how you were never there
Always me, the stars, and tears
And I ask you,
what kind of life is THAT?
I have to face the facts
I don’t know what happens now
but it happens without you.
The stains will always be there
the scars will never fade
But the memory of you----
it HAS to.
I could carry the torch forever
But it would only consume me
I can’t cry another tear for you
Or I’ll dry up completely
It doesn’t affect you
and you never deserved me
You’ll go on with your life, too
All, all alone
Because you’ll only ever be in love
Copyright © SLS It Is Rife With Ambiguity | Year Posted 2011
"Put on channel seven.
My Lord!! What have they done!
I can not believe it..
they killed my only son!"
Raised with respect.
Never a problem.
Worked hard as a Man.
Problems..he would solve them.
He did well in College..
He struggled..but made it through.
Held his chin up when he was down.
Gods help..guided him through.
He put down his cup of coffee.
Kissed his daughters face.
Ran to catch the bus.
To join the daily race.
On the 105th floor,
"Ding!" and he steps out.
He can already hear.
His boss’s vivid shouts.
We are staring at the screen.
The worst disaster I have ever seen.
The building collapsed.
My heart went numb.
is my only son?
Did he make to the office?
Lord tell me..it’s not true.
God, take me instead of him!
Please help him get through.
"Where is my Daddy?"
I was staring in her eyes..
I saw it then..she realized.
"Why would they do it?
..What have they done?
I said, "We are not to hate but..
..but they have killed my only son."
Copyright © Jennifer M. | Year Posted 2014
FACE OF A BEGGAR CHILD
I saw your tear-stained face O’ child
It swam before my eyes at night
I clearly saw your life’s struggle,
Your painful hunger pangs and fright.
In my dreams I could clearly see
Your shredded clothes and unkempt hair.
At such a tender age O’ child,
On your face it was all written there.
No one to care for you my child
No one to call your very own.
No mother nor father to call you son,
No siblings to call you come hither bro’.
I wondered how you came to be
In such a distressed way of life
Each day you have to beg for alms
And face the world’s rage and strife.
Were you the victim of natural disaster,
Like quake or floods epidemic or plague.
Or was it due to human vices
Like war or bloody bath of death.
Were you lost in busy hustle of life,
Was it all due to human greed.
Were you the fruit of sin and tossed,
Amidst dirty dustbin where dogs came to feed.
Your tear-stained face swims before my eyes,
And asks me how it came to be.
That God created all humans alike,
But gave them different destiny.
Oh God, this your humble servant,
Asks you just one small question.
If there are so many tear-stained faces present,
Why Mother Teressa was only one.
Copyright © Kulsum Mehmood | Year Posted 2011
I went to the dentist today.
The lady who cleaned my teeth had hair fit for a Weasley with large piercing eyes to compliment. Her name is Sierra, and she is 22 years old.
She asked me if anything had medically changed since the last time I had came.
I told her about my chronic pain and alopecia.
"Is that all?", she innocently questioned. I told her about my anxiety and insomnia.
"What's that sore on your chest?", she probed. I told her about my dermatillomania.
She nodded and got out her tools.
Here, is where I thought the conversation would end.
I'm so thankful I was wrong.
She looked at me with her large eyes and told me that she too has anxiety.
She said she has PTSD from some family issues a couple years back.
She knows what it's like, how it feels.
She sat behind me and asked me how I was coping.
I thought she meant with my mental disorders and informed her I was ok.
The only answer I can semi truthfully give these days.
She asked me if I was sure.
Told me I have sad eyes.
Asked if all of it together was overwhelming.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
Yes, it is. It always is.
The only word that managed to escape was yes.
She said that only people who have it can see it in other people.
I have it, I know what she meant.
She recommended certain Melaluca oils to help.
Recommended melatonin for the insomnia.
Said I should text her, call her, Facebook her.
Heck, even make an appointment just for the sake of talking.
She'd go on break and we'd go outside just so I could vent.
Shared with me an inspiring image she loved.
It is a picture of Jesus, smiling, holding his hand out to Peter after he's fallen beneath the waves.
How even though we fall beneath the waves, Jesus isn't disappointed or mad with us.
She said he'll always be there for us.
She said that she knows it's overwhelming, and hard.
But keep your head up above the waves.
She recommended I read a novel titled, "Redeeming Love".
She said it helped her immensely.
Somewhere in here she mentioned I have striking features, and pull off bald better than most.
So much love and compassion radiated from her very words.
I've forgotten what that kind of love feels like.
People who spread compassion and understanding like flower petals give me hope.
Thank you, Sierra.
Copyright © Hailey Coraggioso | Year Posted 2016
Alone; as you lie on your bed
The stars brighten, serene
Such an ecstatically lovely scene
While these visions float in your head
Imagining hues of purple: divisions of colorful red
Teardrop sparks sprinkle the room
All around in sweetness croon
The words unheard, not said.
Beauty beheld in radiant eyes
In you resides the strength of Achilles
Though at war within your smile is silly
All and sundry cries
A child unknown, underlies
This babe: birthed in the lion’s den
Whimpering song of saddened sin
Precious glowing guise.
A moments life on a dealers rate
Mommy’s whoring liquid lance
Living within your secret trance
Ungodly was to procreate
Yet yours is to a tempted fate
To feel, to float, to steal a scream
A life conceived within a dream
With this are you given another date.
Heaven awaits sweet heroin hero
Innocent babe with your precious grin
What you have now is only ten
Seconds counted backwards to zero
Alone to dwell in your place of limbo
A pasture for you, a bed of clouds
One more broken breath allowed
Goodbye sweet heroin hero.
BY: DARREN J McMURRAY
Copyright © Darren J McMurray | Year Posted 2008
A place still lies
Lonely and untouched
Every night it cries
Seeking for its walls to be patched
A place still lies
But dead in its self
With broken memories
And an empty shelf
I struggle to find myself
In the midst of all the strife
But above me a cloud of darkness
So thick, full of sadness
The place will still lie
But not utter a cry
It shall continue to die
Because no one asked why
Copyright © Victor Apeanyo Jr. | Year Posted 2008
Up into the sky
like an Angel
at Soupland, watching him as he soared
like an Angel;
a strong love he had, sharing it till the end, yet
could not resist the resounding call
and he left,
Leaving us his poetry, for
when great storms come in, his laughter
will dry our tears like rain.
for Tom Bell, a great poet who taught us all--
to laugh and to smile…to learn… and to give.
Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2008
from his abc's
to that freaky billy jean
came a pop star
for all to love and see
from the apollo's stage
wondered if you were ready for screaming rage
for you never had a childhood of bliss
only done what was on joseph's list
a studded white glove
and white socks just because
a star on the hollywood walk of fame
for you sang and danced showing no shame
scandals of twisted truth
did not detour you from your missing youth
neverland was your own safari escape
who would figure your best friend would be a chimp of faith
michael may god cradle you in his arms
and basked in your king of pops worldly charm
will forever miss that porcelain smile
and always think of you on my radio dial
for now your at your heavens trial
may god forgive this lost and lonely child
In Loving Memory Of
Michael Joseph Jackson
Aug 29th 1958 - June 25th 2009
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2009
your velvety blossoms
slowly withers away
once tender roots
have now decayed
at the thought i cringe
such insidious disease
each and every leaf
moldy black spots
crinkled stained edges
your magnificent growth
your unsurpassed beauty
now fuzzed up and gray
crinkled debilated stems
a dull distorted array
shoots barely opened
leaves now curled and bent
such unforgettable moment
your petals soon descend
your spicy scent has drifted
such sickly brittle vein
Flowers now discolored
and left to thrive on pain
after months of nurturing
your once marvelous display
the thought of you slowly wilting
has left me in dismay
*My theme is taken from Constance's Poem "in Memory of a rose"*
Copyright © Rashana King | Year Posted 2010
I hold it in
falling apart inside
close my door
walk up the familiar stairs
reach for my only friend
no questions asked
not a doubt in my mind
i tug at my wrist
let my arms Cry Red Tears
full of pain desire hate
tape up the emotions
put away the fears
so i can hold it in
and let my arms Cry Red Tears...
Copyright © courtney webb | Year Posted 2011
like the raven
who taps taps upon
your chamber door
do not fret my Virginia
for it's my shadow
moving across the floor
this is what I'm telling you my darlin
and nothing more
I still call your name
come to me virginia
come hear the tap tap
upon your chamber door
for only you my love
I surrender and never more
wind howls in blanket snows
here I stand so all alone
broken hearted and misconstrued
my Virginia who lies under stars and moon
just a tap tap upon your chambers door
tis I and nothing more
tales of hidas truth
blackbird sings harps cords
just like the tap tap upon your chambers door
my sweet Virgina whom I adore
for there'll be love waiting and nothing more
as I lay right next to you in this tomb
I counted only seven who have even knew
the times of this raven who
tapped tapped upon your chambers door
twas only I and will be never more
Tribute To Edgar Allen Poe
And His Young Bride Virginia
Also To His Poem The Raven
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2009
There once was a girl,
Who's name I can't tell.
To spare her the pain,
I'll just call her Belle.
Belle was a beauty
And all the beasts could see,
She was everything in a girlfriend
That they wanted theirs to be.
Belle was so trusting,
Because she was never treated wrong,
But little did she know that
Her innocence wouldn't last long.
She had two friends,
Sasha and Trevor,
And a boyfriend that she thought
She'd love forever.
Her boyfriend, Sam,
And Trevor were friends.
So this fearsome foursome
Had fun to no end.
The youngest of the four
But the smartest, she thought.
But what a friend was
Was not what she was taught.
Trevor and Belle
Would hang out all day.
She would try to be like him
In her own boyish way.
You see, the Trevor I speak of
Was King of the Beasts
And everything he wanted
Was laid at his feet.
And, although curious,
Belle stayed true to Sam
And that made Trevor feel
That he was less of a man.
One day, in a summer
5 years ago,
Belle told me something
I needed to know.
She told me what happened
The day that she ran.
The day that will forever
Be burned in the sand.
She told me what happened
When she looked over her shoulder
And saw him walking towards her
As the room grew colder.
She told me her tears
Were no match to his power.
She told me what made this beast
She told me she screamed
And hollered and yelled
But her cries were soon muffled
By his lips, dry and pale.
She told me how she felt
The day that she was bruised.
Never in her life
Had she felt so used!
I asked her why she didn't fight
Or get tough like she does on the field.
She just said I'd never know the
Weakness that I would feel.
I couldn't help but to cry for her
As she blamed herself.
Belle had always wanted to be
The beauty on everyone's shelf.
"But not like that," she said to me,
"Not with one of my friends."
She let a tear roll down her face
As she spoke of her life's end.
Some may ask why'd she tell me;
"What made her come to you?"
I simply look at them and say,
"You don't know Belle like I do."
I know this story in great detail
And if you look real close you'll see
The tear I shed while writing this
Because...Belle is me.
Copyright © Leighanne Rush | Year Posted 2006
I do not know?
Almost three years now Daddy
since you were taken away
I thank God you no longer suffer
but I had so much more to say
But you and I were always very close
and I know that we still are
So be free to enjoy family and friends
I know you'll never be far
Oh but Daddy
Did I remember to thank you
for coming to stay with the kids and I
At times you thought you were a burden
but if anyone was it was I
And I want to tell you too Daddy
that you would be so proud of them all
Brandon's now a sergeant with a son on the way
Cam Jeremy is due early fall
And your little Sarah Daddy
you would be so very proud
She's a tiny little thing, still a great mom
and has the best boys in any crowd
And I'm sure you've been watching Curtis
So you know he's just like you
And he is living up to the promise he made
Yes Daddy I'm very proud too
Oh and one more thing
before I lay down to rest
Did I remember to tell you and the world
My Daddy's the best
Loving you and missing you always
Your baby girl
Copyright © J Dawn | Year Posted 2009
She cried, She died inside over and over again, She was trapped in herself
and she had no way of escaping. Taking drugs to dull the mud that's been in her
for years. She's so far away from reality that it's like she is constantly
She has to remind herself what's fictional and what's fact because the
hallucinations wouldn’t let her breath, they’d lie to her every chance she gets.
Turning her mom into a monster not butterflies suddenly this high becomes a
nightmare. One she had been fighting for so long, 16 and still traveling the same
rode as so many younger than her. She didn't listen to all the voices that tried to
tell her what she was missing because truly reality is the thing that makes life
worth living. To her reality was the guy who had raped her constantly when she was
young, Why choose reality when you could live in a dream world where everything had
excuses. Not only could she not recognize the girl who cried constantly in the
mirror but she'd done so many things to herself that even her eyes were a different
It hurt so bad not to remember so she continued to fade until soon it seemed
In an idiotical world where there were always smiles, It wasn't until she got help
that she realized the real world was never always pleasant. It was filled with hate
and lies and pain but that's something real and something she needed to face.
Something she needed to open her eyes to, life would never be cake and she couldn't
have her victory without tasting poison at least once. So when the tears dried and
the wounds healed she signed up for a special thing a thing called GED and she got
Copyright © Shahana Jackson | Year Posted 2005
I'm dying in this slow decay of the senses.
Senseless agony consumes my mind.
Eating my soul until I'm gray.
Gray like the leaves at your funeral.
The day the color faded and beauty went away.
The sky is falling,
But, only on me.
As the Heavens are calling,
They tell me to leave.
But don't put your faith, your faith in me.
Don't trust fate,
For nothing is meant to be.
The slow silent squeezing of my petrified soul.
I left my heart with the sugar,
In the bottom of the bowl.
The wounds of the mind,
Based solely on the knife.
Look for my flaws and you'll always find....
Welcome to my life.
Copyright © Rachel Mathews | Year Posted 2007
I do not know?
I once heard a saying,
that the happiest people are the saddest
Shining because they’ve seen the darkest
Like the lotus that grows out of mud
Or the rotting stump that bears a bud..
You never know what troubles the mind
So be careful with words unkind
The glowing person just beside you
Could be a crumbling ruin behind the hairdo
Most people struggle everyday
Souls burdened with decay..
I guess it takes a lot of courage
To act normal with that damage
Hard to believe that under the surface
Lives a soul with no purpose
A cry for help won’t be any crisper
Listen to the their inner whisper..
Copyright © Master Jones | Year Posted 2012
We drove by her run-down house
with faded green shingles
and boarded-up windows,
a sad feeling overwhelmed us;
many times we helped her
to cut down the thick grass
and in return she gave us
three yellow flowers
as a token of her gratitude...
no one else could have cared more!
"These flowers are for you,darlings,because
you helped me plant them in the soil,
and they've grown to be tall and beautiful
in a garden so tidy and nice!"
she exclaimed in jubilation;
"Remember me by when
I'll reach my home...to dwell
in the presence of the Lord,
and I'll be looking down on you and
pray with all angels to keep you safe and well!'
she gladly said with resignation,
foreseeing what she couldn't explain...
She told us about her sweetheart,
whom she loved indefinetly:
from the moment they met,
to the day he peacefully died:
a lovely and faithful wife
was all he wanted and dreamed;
and their marriage lasted
longer than they expected to be...
to be taken with them,
not being afraid of death!
"This is the grand piano I sed to play
for my husband on his last birthday;
he laid his arms on my shoulders
and sang along with me for hours:
on those snowy nights without moon...
when romance was rekindled with kisses
and the sentimental tunes
took away our winter's blues!"
she murmured with deep regret,
until her light eyes became wet...
The decaying house was put up for sale,
and only these kids have a story to tell
about the nicest person on that block,
who once was the prettiest girl-scout...
who loved us as much as her own children;
but did she deserve to be forgotten and die alone?
And if you wonder what her name was,
she was the kind-hearted Mrs Adams!
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2006
I've watched her vanish and dietirate into withering roses.
The pain that takes over her body is spreading fast and furious,
and only weakens her!
How can she bring so much light into a room of darkend souls, with her smile,
When she has only those two weeks to remain?
Why her a mother and new bride?
She doesnt want to miss a thing in her young boys lifes.
But... she already knows how it will be and how it will come.
Six days, six days she had before the death withen her took
one last breath, and she vanished into the atmosphere and left.
Copyright © Emily Kroeger | Year Posted 2009
Okay, Just Drop One In
Okay, just drop one in his cup,
or maybe two or more,
in trembling hands that he holds up,
while begging eyes implore.
Wrapped up in tattered coat, his home,
wherever he may end;
cast out by fate and all alone...
this cup, his only friend.
Okay, just drop one in his cup,
a bill or batch of change,
to see him smile when he looks up...
as fear with hope exchange.
To see eyes sparkle and well up...
perhaps today he eats.
Okay, just drop one in his cup;
revive this heart that beats.
Contest: Okay, Just Drop One In
Sponsor: John Lawless
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016