He who disregards truth and justice
Will sooner or later go the whole hog;
His bestial appetites and habits,
His love of cruelty and power eventually will take over
Perhaps without him ever realizing the danger.
He is not only beyond the control of others
But beyond his own control.
He does no good ( like rainless clouds or fruitless trees,
Heaping abuse on anything he doesn't understand;
Spoiling the fellowship meals with his irreverent behavior.
He lives at the mercy of his brutish instincts,
Looking after Himself instead of caring for his brother.
Like storm, he leaves behind him shame and disgrace;
like the dirty foam left along the beach by the wild waves.
He's like stars that have wandered into outer space and give no light,
He grumbles about everything and have a huge chip on his shoulder.
He is one in reign,
A loud-mouthed show-off
Who flatters others for his own advantage
And give free reign to his evil desires.
Some GUY wanted to SUE me; he had a CHIP on his shoulder. Just because of a picture of ART that I DREW of a ROSE that I threw off a CLIFF in the RAYNE that landed in a BROOKE on his property. I was STEW-ed, KEN he do that? To be quite FRANK with HUGH, I think on the EVE of the court date the judge WILL CHUCK it out the window. MARK my words, the LIL RICH JACK won't ROB me. I'll speak into the MIKE, Jump with JOY... and have a fine glass of SHERRY after I send him the BILL for the court costs. I'll just turn the PAIGE and wait till DAWN and go vacation on some SANDY beach. I'll let that DICK BOB for apples.
Okay story told, Now I'll go work out at the JIM, eat some eggs with a sausage PATTIE and then go release my emotions in the JOHN
Cement Pillow
Blame, blame, blame
makes playing life’s game so much easier to do…
Shift it, change it, switch it as long as it ain’t put on you.
Blame, blame, blame
Mom’s the easiest target…
since dad I never knew.
Blame, blame, blame
Let others wear the shame…
As you rip a beat/ freestyle & put on a show…
Convinced that such is true, that chip on his shoulder is free to grow & grow.
Blame, blame, blame
No! Son try a ‘lil’ Socratic Reasoning…
You might find out it was truly all your own choices & actions…
In reality the blame all belongs to you.
Blame, blame, blame
“No, no, no!” Is the retort I get…
Look back in truth with that gifted brain
Choosing still to refrain,
cause the performance is way cooler, when one has been ripped off and beaten down by one who’s sposed to help you make gain.
Blame, blame, blame
“If I truthfully look back, think hard and follow the logic, I might have to accept that it was my own choices and actions…Shite! I really did create my own bed!”
No worries, son, you have naught to dread... my love is unconditional and just continues to spread.
Jill Spagnola
I want to write a poem about judging a book by its cover
Yeah can you judge a book by its cover?
You bet
You can see what kind of person that person is
by looking at her/him
Don't tell me if you can't
You can tell a person strong or not strong
Weak or is a pushover
You can tell a lot by looking at him/her
You can tell if he has a chip on his shoulder
Or have the whole world at heart
You can tell if he is selfish
or have the heart of gold
It is called the gift of discernment
I don't know if everyone has it
But God gives you that to protect yourself
You shouldn't use that to hurt others
It is not something to play with
Did you ever think why God gives you that?
It is for a purpose
And only God knows
So if you ever think a person is something
Don't push that aside
Don't change it
You are changing it to the incorrect version
For three years our relationship flourishes rich in happiness and love.
One child born another on the way a woman with her soul mate.
On a beautiful day in September, he came from work with a chip on his shoulder.
Voices rose and he called her a w*o*e.
Where did this come from?
The verbal abuse became his endless dementia.
He was afraid to hit her.
He was profane; therefore, she became defensive.
This particular occurrence she won.
He calls her an unfit mom.
She told him he was that not her.
He did for his sister’s children more than he did for his own.
As life prevails, he did things that were not real.
This is your family as well.
A long story poem short…
He is now dead [!].
He found it in the alley
Where someone stashed it and run
The steel felt cold in his hands
As he held his brand new gun
Only fourteen with a chip on his shoulder
He stuffs it in his pants
Feeling ten feet tall and bullet proof
Now no one stands a chance
He decides to rob a supermarket
To show his friends he has no fear
He walks in the store and yells get on the floor
But the cops were already near
He ran from the market as a shot rang out
Hitting him in the back
He tossed the gun in a garbage can
Right before his sight went black
A twelve year old saw it all
So he waited til the cops were done
One more victim waiting to die
As he reaches for the dead man's gun
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