The first offense
Was enacted through violence
Too little to comprehend
Adults needed my silence
I learned to stuff the pot
It wasn't difficult at first
But many years of sorrow
Brought my pressure cooker to burst
The person present when it happened
Experienced all the anger on reserve
He got splattered with matter
Even Satan, himself, did not deserve
Patterns and politics about delivery
Can never be a part of broken hearts
Domestic violence is the ride
The finishes at the point it starts
Who is to bear the pain of yesterday
And carry the aftermath of today
It is the co-dependent needing value
Who seems to never have the courage to say
...STOP IT!!!
Written by Trudy Schrader on 05-23-2026
Club nocturnal
In Bilbao, on a warm evening, he walked past a nightclub
walked in and had a beer; he could have gone to
a Guggenheim Museum and be culturally minded, absorb
and mention it later in a passing conversation, “the other
day at the Guggenheim.”
At the club, a group of people sat drinking affluent bubbly
wine, thinking it was champagne, the group laughed a lot
and apparently had a fine time, although, he thought they
were a bit frenzied about the fun
The people around the table didn’t look prosperous and
the women looked like office tarts, with too much lipstick and
mascara, flashing eyes and giggles.
He knew (had been there) that the one footing the bill
would feel dreadful in the morning, sensing the futility
an ice cap on sagging shoulders of hopelessness.
No, it was not the drinking, real drinkers do not frequent
nightclubs, but drinking at modest places, was about feeling swanky
a man about town.
He paid for his beer and complained about the price
the waiter pointed to a pricelist hanging high on a wall, so there!
Along the boulevard, he bought newspapers went to a café,
had some wine and spent hours enjoying himself.
There Are No Free Lunches
By: Miracle Man
9/26/2018
The song, “The best things in life are free”
Beyond a smile, a hug, or a friend, can this be?
Now I’ve never been one who aspired for free stuff,
But others I know complain there’s never enough.
Being free, to me, means some others have paid,
And when I’m footing the bill I feel betrayed.
Anything the Government can give you today,
With tomorrows sun rise it can also take away.
Many become puppets intent being to advance,
The government pulls their string and they dance.
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