Time Wasted

This write is a lesson

intended for me

a reminder of sorts

of the way I should be

No target intended

it's not about you

unless that you find

this is something you do

My time being wasted

I return to spend more

with this one little wish

to even the score

To force you

into wasting your time

in a childish argument

by crossing the line

One with no last word

no truce to be found

repeating the same comments

till they're run into the ground

We move on to insulting

and give it our best

when the revenge of choice

should have been to give it a rest

I should be spending my time

going on with my life

than to fill every moment

riddled with strife

This not about you

it's all about me

not looking for payback

it's the way I should be

Poetry in the Outback

I've been told there is a canon

a set of rules you say

but in this year of 2015

so many have gone away

Forget about the meter

to hell with punctuation

for in this land of poetry

there is a brand new nation

There are those who don't want this to change

and for purity they do strive

please go on stick to canon

and keep your craft alive

But no two people are the same

we all have different tastes

and when a reader hates all one writes

it's his own time he wastes

Not everyone is out there

looking for that classic write

you see today it's like the outback

there are no rules, just right

No Better Gift

Home for Christmas

I don't remember the last time

he's been away so long

sure he's been home for visits

they've been great

but seldom around the holidays

he's so much more of a man

than 22 years ago

seems we have to get to know each other

I can't imagine a better gift

than to have my son home

Forward into the Vortex

Forward

yet without direction

empty of purpose

empty of life

the spirit has left

my heart aches for love

does anyone care

it doesn't show

but how can I know for sure

if I don't look back

there is this feeling

that their eyes follow

do they watch as I pass

are they looking at me

or beyond to a destination of their own

are we all on the same path

has everything I have known

we've known

become a pit filled with nothingness

a complete void

that swallows any who dare desire

I long for a companion

one to pull me back from this vortex

maybe then this trek might seem tolerable

maybe then this darkness will abate

maybe then I can once again live

There Is No Balance

They speak

never listen

their world

crumbling

understanding

nonexistant

their minds

closed

it must be

their way

without waver

They speak

never heard

their world

crumbling

their needs

ignored

their hearts

distressed

their way

no longer

represented

Presumption

Judgment enslaves

living for that approval of others

denying our individuality

we put our self on the shelf

going out of our way

to escape their frown

we live in stress rather than comfort

the means to the end of their desires

becomes burdensome

why trample over my own desires

am I not worthy

of a life of joy

to be happy

should not my filling come first

how can I lift the spirit of another

when my own spirit

has become buried

beneath the judgment I am a slave to

please be not presumptuous to judge

not all are intended to walk your path

we must all find our own way

That Christmas

There once was a Christmas at home

as kids we four spent it alone

see my mom broke her nose

as she tripped over her toes

and the truth of old Santa made known

The Song No Longer Rings True

The sky still blue and spacious

our fields grow golden grains

snow capped mountains

are still viewed in placid reflecting pools

fruits and nuts are upon our trees

but as for brotherhood between the seas

the good has become harder to find

our light has dimmed

They came seeking relief from religious oppression

only to convert and pervert what they found

their freedom meant

the abolishment of the ways of

the new world they had come to

with violence and death

taking more land

there was no self control

no liberty

no real law other than

might made right

for the new people did not honor their god

and were deserving of death

These were not heroes

they did not liberate the peoples of this new land

they showed no mercy

there was nothing noble or divine in their treatment

not of the peoples

nor of the lands that they found

They had a dream

of great alabaster cities

built them

but today

these are filled with empty dilapidated buildings

the homeless

and the violence that built them

tears run down the cheeks

of mothers and fathers losing their sons and daughters

tears are shed by the victims

of the religious extremism that was seeded in those early times

How can we continue to sing America The Beautiful?

The Waiting Room

This waiting room

so lonely at times

so quiet

it's as if no-one else is here

they sit across from me

yet I feel totally alone

all the time wondering

what awaits me on the other side of that door

I have heard others claim to know

but to me the afterlife remains a mystery

Stuck in a Box

Stuck in the box

a steel trap of a mind

when rusted shut

a man falls behind

Our language is wicked

when with one single word

so many meanings can vary

with the way they are heard

For the mind that is closed

understanding's a chore

but once it is open

it can perceive so much more

The Blood of a Turnip

Thirsting for blood

expecting a flood

when the turnip goes dry

their greed does not die

no the blood from a turnip

is never enough

it must be ground to a pulp

it's a treatment quite rough

we're put through the mill

which is never a thrill

with too little pay

so they might have their way

but somehow we survive

although barely alive

as they leave us a crumb

no they're greed is not dumb

the field has been plowed

they've planted the seed

from our pockets they'll harvest

the next crop of their greed

We Have Become Rome

what does it matter

whether they come for your money

or they come for your blood

the fact that they come

speaks of a dark heart

they are the takers

they've no wish to share with us

only leaving enough seed behind

to ensure another harvest

our money and blood

the sweat of our brow

they depend on it

they demand our loyalty to their cash cow

while seeing us as fodder for their cannons

they thirst ever for more

never satisfied with the hoard

they've already amassed

those who stand in their way

they're expendable

the rich get richer by the day

our cost to live

continually endangered

oh how the plutocrat loves to hold his third world ransom

that is what we are becoming

we are their stepping stones

and once we are used to cross a river

bringing the takers to greener pastures

we are no longer needed

there will always be more stones

that they can throw into the waters

we are no more than bridge material to their next fortune

once crossed to be thrown away

they'll not need our bridge a second time

they never look back and care not

for the rubble they leave behind

Keeping Score

I had no dog in the hunt

but I kept score anyway

at least I though I was

I believed that the numbers of the fallen

ours and theirs

was the score of war

the body count kept increasing

more soldiers were sent

when that war died down

another began

once again the thoughts of

'who cares, I don't have to go'

came back

once again I began counting bodies

the cycle kept repeating itself

I began to notice

so many former soldiers

disabled

homeless

more dying of suicide

than in the wars they fought

while the military industrial community

continued to feed their coffers

by the blood of the fallen

What was the score again?

I seem to have lost count.

Don't Ignore the Alarm

You must wake to their lies

unto the truth

and it must be done

during the days of youth

for those who wait

until days of old

will find that their heart

has been grown as a mold

kept in the dark

and living in shadows

always afraid

to look out their windows

denying the violence

accepting the wars

and avoiding the truth

they've become cold hearted whores

We are the Price

Their minds are closed

hearts grown cold

their killing continues

as they grow old

Fueled by their hate

what I find as odd

is that these terrorists kill

in the name of their god

Extremism sucks

whether religion or bucks

as at the end of the day

it's the common people who pay

The Seeds Of Conflict

The narrowness of understanding

it exists in all of us

a mind shut tight as if it were a rusty trap

with no desire for oil

denial that there is more to life

than their view

statements made carry consequence

many words

many meanings

often understood to fit an individual

then believed by another differently

each to fit their needs

neither is totally right

nor are they wrong

they are just different

how it can take so little of a difference to become

the seeds of conflict

Thou Too Shall Perish

Blinded by their hatred of others

taught them by those with an equally vile past

If you're not like me, some day you'll be

or perish for your denial of my god

Is this how the extremists share the love of their god

would not a god desire converts to choose him

yet those who would proselytize

offer fear and punishment as their incentive

If you're not like me, some day you'll be

or perish for your denial of my god

You think I speak of Islam

no, it is all of the Abrahamic peoples

you say, no not us

but it continues within all three branches

today we see the focus on Islam

while we ignore the Zionist movement

we complain, what has this to do with Christianity

while hiding our eyes from Bangui

in the Central African Republic it is Christians killing Muslims

because they are Muslims

There is no need to travel to see the evidence of this hate

the bombings of abortion clinics

the murder of doctors who perform abortions

proves the hate is right here at home

and there are those who celebrate the deaths

of people who do not believe exactly as they do

If you're not like me, some day you'll be

or perish for your denial of my god

We hear the voices of the extremists

calling for the deaths of the non believers

so many seek that eye for an eye

choosing to remain blind in their hate

Why is it that even within each leg

those known as Sunni cannot get along with the Shiite

Protestants and Catholics war with each other

the Semites of Israel and Palestine continue to battle

when their roots are all found

in the same servant of their god

Ideology sucks when it drives people to kill each other

all their books condemn killing

while at the same time justify killing the non believer

in the name of their god

There is no glory in this

How their god must weep

how he must wish them to rid themselves of their books

and live in peace with each other

If you're not like me, some day you'll be

or perish for your denial of my god

Evil, In the Eye of the Beholder

justifying the war

because we're the good guy

and putting down evil

is our reason why

is ignoring the fact

that our enemy

believes they're the good guy

fighting the evil they see

The Seven Seas

The seven seas

the human race

their waters are one

we share the same life giving blood

they have different names

we come in many colors

they are separated by continents

we are separated by religion

these differences

do nothing to change that fact

that they remain one water

and we are one human race

there are those who have never really grown up

they were no more than little green plastic soldiers

outfitted with rifles and ammo belt

as a child they were set up as to be in battle

the foe was unknown

it was just how we played

what fun it was to pretend army

the cold war was waging

the threat of missiles

Russian missiles so close to our own shores

being launched from Cuba brought fear

we were still young and didn't really understand the danger

we continued to play army

marching with sticks we pretended were rifles

ready to take cover in the shelters we made in the vacant field

we were still having our fun

playing army

now grown up

many of my generation sit in congress

they still have their toy soldiers

they're no longer green

the weapons no longer resemble the rifles of our youth

and the toys they play with

are no longer plastic

they continue to put them to battle in other lands

they are still having fun

playing army

A Blessing of Abstract

Abstract poetry

requires a man to think

lazy minds grow strong

My Own Answers

when perfectly clear

I've no reason to think

a mindlessness that I fear

stagnation does stink

I've no reason to think

give me my abstract

stagnation does stink

give me my mind back

give me my abstract

it serves me quite well

give me my mind back

set me free from this hell

it serves me quite well

to answer questions I find

set me free from this hell

and open my mind

the ability to think

this mindlessness that I fear

can be too often the case

when things are perfectly clear

I want my own answers

that way they'll be mine

so don't worry yourself

I'll be perfectly fine

Closure

The promise of closure

there ain't no such thing

even when justice is served

it don't lessen the sting

when your child has been murdered

it isn't something

you ever get over

or quench the burning

The promise of closure

it's all one big lie

the loss is forever

you still question why

memories return

you again start to cry

shedding tears from within

of a never ending supply

Disturbed

The nights of my life

that morphed into days

tired body and mind

in so many ways

to rise from the bed

not rested at all

seemed to promise me daily

an additional fall

my spirit now broken

my energy gone

these sleepless nights

they've gone on too long

I don't want to work

it's become a struggle to live

the hungry faces keep coming

and I have no more to give

across this world children starving

and I don't understand why

with the government's riches

hungry kids have to die

Being My Own Man

Am I not my own man

secure in my own beliefs

there are those who try and enter my life

having the sole purpose of changing me

why do people let others tell them

who they are supposed to be

how they're supposed to act

and who their friends can be

somebody once said

to impersonate is the sincerest form of flattery

but should I surrender who I am

for their need to feel noticed

to feed their ego

these people are like pictures of insecurity

they've not grown into their own individualism

they've become carbon copies

of others from their past

people they consider to be their heroes

rather than becoming their own person

they now wish to be the hero of another

no, I will walk my road

there may be many different paths through life

but for me the one I'm on

is the one I must travel

it will be the influence of this road that will mold me

I've grown to really like who I've become

I think I'll continue to be my own man

My Eyes Should Have Been Open

Encompassed in darkness

the light of day unseen

the years passed in a hole of lies

this faith is not my own

if it were

I could find joy

but there is only darkness

a spirit that has no life

birthed by false hope

The negativity of those men

the ones who seek power

to hold control over others

their words were so inviting at first

those words are no longer so

today they bring a loneliness

a longing

for the days of innocence

I ask myself why

why have I slept so long

why have I walked through life

with my eyes wide shut

The Hole that Cannot be Filled In

The inadvertent excavation left a hole

it seemed large enough to swallow the world

people said not to worry

it can be filled in again later

with the loss of a child

later never comes  

The Color of Morning

Those wonderful colors

almost black on the edges

the transition to a rich chocolate brown

becoming transparent as it moves toward gold

then yellow

that beautiful morning beverage

being poured from carafe to cup

I hear the voice of Joe Cocker

“You are so beautiful to me”

“You're everything I'd hoped for”

“Everything I need”

Good Morning World

How The Loss of My Eye Became A Blessing

My right eye

lost to glaucoma

self pity took my heart

the days were long

the question was always

why

why me

a constant mood of darkness

my attitude was sour

it's strange how a person can change

totally change for such a small disability

so small compared to those who have lost both legs

so small compared to those who become paralyzed

so small compared to if I had lost both eyes

it was those thoughts that brought me back

losing one eye was little

a minor inconvenience

mostly just a loss of peripheral vision

that and my depth perception leaving me

within that six to eight foot distance it was strange

life was changing for me again

it was night and day

from sour to sweet

the self pity was gone

what I had was far greater than what I had lost

I was immediately able to appreciate what I still had

no more did I rue the loss

I began to realize

there was beauty in the world

that I had never seen before

'nuff said

Congress acts so stupidly

with a lack of common sense

no longer working for the people

money grabbing for two more pence

Once they've been elected

treat voters as who cares

let them eat cake is what they speak

after all, they've been given theirs

The Danger of Flowers

Some speak with words reminiscent of flowers

while others blunt with bare naked truth

the one tends to tickle the ears of the people

while the other is deemed quite uncouth

these words they offer when spoken so soft

lull the people to sleep

the speakers pretend to act like they're shepherds

treating the people like sheep

with the smell of their flowers that's hiding what's real

leading the listener to a false comfortable feel

carefully protecting what it is they conceal

what they really do offer is just a raw deal

wake up people

all they want is more power

if you don't read twixt the lines

there's a danger to flowers

Will the Pain End on The Other Side

Awake

on the right side of the dirt

what could it hurt

to open my eyes

before me a picture

one of sadness

the homeless

the working poor

the children with dirt upon their faces

in tattered clothing

I see distended bellies

malnutrition taking its toll

this is supposed to be

the worlds greatest nation

we see those who will not work

and there are those who can not help themselves

but it is the children who suffer most

they deserve better

I often wonder

and I know I wouldn't change things

could I stop the hurt inside

if I were to awaken on the other side

Clouded Views

my opinion was questioned

my view then became clouded

are my beliefs now that of another

no longer do I have an understanding

nothing of this life path that has been set before me

can be seen

I feel as if I am now blind

my direction lost

there is no moving on from where I find myself

no longer do I know which way is forward

why is it some wish to mold everyone they meet

into a clone of themselves

There is a Cost

The people heard

but they wouldn't listen

their eyes were open

but couldn't see

the killing fields

this war at home

was never something

that should ever be

our children gone

forever lost

the right to bear

it has cost

when a crazy man

can still get a gun

and in his mind

it's for his fun

death will follow

excuses spun

the NRA

again has won

Salt

Salt trails upon cheeks

speak of sorrow

and also joy

joy and sorrow

they are yin and yang

the two sides of the emotional coin

so odd

two totally opposite emotions

yet they release in the same manner

my salt tested twice in three days

that which was lost to us

returned

how is it a pet can mean so much

Murder For Hire

Death and dismemberment

that's what they bring

while songs sung of heroes

are the tunes that we sing

Soldier on soldier

a body count is the score

but it's the folks who build weapons

who are winning the wars

It's all about money

satisfying their greed

the rich filling their storehouse

while they haven't the need

Today's wars they're for profit

of money, of land

and the worlds children keep dying

as we strike up the band

When will we stop

will it ever end

war, murder for hire

was not meant as a friend

Empty

love

meant for the heart

denied

for lack of trust

The Killing Fields

The killing fields

right here at home

are somehow different

from those that we've known

no longer war

on foreign fields

but there's a body count

this new war yields

students and teachers

professors and preachers

murders committed

by horrible creatures

are there no answers

to the question why

these monsters keep killing

causing mothers to cry

life is not ours to take

nor a game that we play

when will this madness end

will there come such a day

a day of beautiful peace

love shared man to man

the tools of killing laid down

would be a wonderful plan

but I know it's a dream

one that can never come true

and that thought and the stress

leaves me ever so blue

A Present Day Hiding Place

Rude and rotten

that's what they are

with their bigoted messages

the worst kind by far

Seldom respectful

to the people they meet

destroying their mood

but not on the street

It's here on the internet

and not face to face

where they act as the tough guy

feeling perfectly safe

Anonymity that's cool

avatars they're great

and what they give to the bullies

is a place to practice their hate

Samma Vaca

words so in-edible

you just can't keep them down

they move your insides

you regurgitate

you've had your fill

but the children must play

their game

proving they are better than you

their onslaught of disrespect continues

they don't know when to stop

they have no idea what they cause

in truth, they don't even care

they don't seem to realize

they are responsible

for the pain they bring

the spirits they crush

and the hearts they break

their way is the only way

the game must be won

even if the cost

includes their humanity

the frozen places

are always the loneliest  

The Casualty of a One Sided War

Without acknowledgment

The warrior has no foe

His war remains within

The only casualty

His spirit

The Box

stuck in his box

with no way out

frustration with life

he began to shout

where is my freedom

the walls he'd scrape

again raising his voice

he would beg escape

let me out he cried

give me new things to learn

variety is calling

and inside I do burn

the box holds me prisoner

with no way to move on

I long for that place

where knowledge will spawn

someone please help

come show me the way

I know I'll learn quickly

if you'll but teach me to play

it's joy that I seek

not the four walls of this box

help me open my mind

bring the keys to the locks

Stagnation

They live in boxes

no doors to pass through

no windows to accept the light

the world has to offer

their meals never change

and no longer have flavor

Seldom Forever

Was it ever true

was it ever alright

there was more than a twig snapped

to give birth to this fight

two lives now uprooted

the end too soon was found

love hadn't been rooted

firm and deep in the ground

the anger had grown

they were both far too proud

neither could back away

their voices now loud

the violence was verbal

this had not come to blows

but the hurt went much deeper

as insults found some new lows

had love ever existed

or had lust been their bond

and with the newness worn off

they'd both found they'd been conned

those three words “I love you”

they lied through their teeth

all they had done was to hide

lust that had lain deep beneath

Fear has had Its Way

Outside my window

Life

So changed from what it once was

people so different from what they were

today it seems as if

we have no time for others

we act as if we are threatened

by those who pass by

even by our neighbors

ever on our guard

the only respect we show

seems to be

because of our fear

Outside my window

life in its ridiculousness

I watch as they walk by

afraid to make eye contact

unable to greet each other

No, it's not just those two across the street

they've been feuding for years

it appears to be almost everyone

There was a time when women

would nod and give a slight curtsy

and men

would tip their hats in greeting

it was a time

that people showed respect for each other

in the form of politeness

Today's respect is shown by their

avoidance of acknowledgment

due to fear of possible confrontation

There are so many angry people in the world today

the shame is that they don't have to be angry if they don't want to be

they hold on to their anger as if it is their life's blood

like those two across the street

only their feud seems to be with life itself

Will they ever see

will they ever understand

they hurt themselves in their denial of joy

Why Deny

I knew a man

who could not see beyond his nose

his path through life

was covered with stones

I knew a man

who refused to open his mind

he could not understand

why he could not understand

I knew a man

who would not let his heart be touched

he died alone

never knowing the joy that was his

Nightmares come from a Lack of Passion

What I would

I have not done

my life cheated

by my cowardice

Afraid to step out on a limb

afraid to follow my dream

unwilling to step outside

that safety net

of being responsible

Dreams are only achieved

by the passionate

The Destroyers

Egos

large enough

to steel the spirit

of entire societies

their self servitude

offering no help

to the people

their cold hearts

have no place

for love of others

their only need

to feel superior

as they tear down

all that is about them

through the misuse of

the position they were given

in order to become

as a child

king of the hill

whose lie

gave them the idea

they were above all others

do they not see the destruction

they leave in the wake of their walk

through life

Arrogance

Knocking men down

from his great altitude

an insane egotist

with a bad attitude

his knowledge was great

why wouldn't they listen

with all of his schooling

his opinion should glisten

the arrogant bastard

went ahead, said his peace

with the ultimate end

a soul for to fleece

to kill a spirit

break a heart

sow discouragement

right from the start

to his dismay

what he didn't expect

was he never received

other peoples respect

eating at him

he'd continued his fight

hoping his words

would push others to flight

showing great disrespect

as his means to his ends

he found himself alone

without any friends

Sheep

Sheep

they follow

never seeing the world

for themselves

they all become alike

they have no individual traits

told where they can go

they are limited as to what world

has to offer

hounded by the dogs

who move them toward a pen

they say for there own protection

yet it is for the shepherd

truly an issue of control

the wolves will always be there

the pen is no protection

those who have not learned

to stand on their own will fall

those who become as the big horn

will experience life

Voice

There once was a voice

he had never before been heard from

well, except for when pen

would make his recitation

to his good friend paper

The day came

voice discovered he had vocal cords

his first words, tentative in their birth proved

insecurity had been the reason

for his silence

He spoke slowly at first

worried that he would stumble

afraid he would begin to stutter

his fear of acceptance or lack thereof

kept him close to the edge of giving up

Deep within a new and fresh feeling come upon him

it was as if out of nowhere

there was a strength building

a new determination

giving up was backing up away from the edge

Voice became strong

no longer insecure

Voice realized his purpose

and vowed to fulfill it

Voice began shouting his messages

from the roof tops

from the tops of mountains

and across the seas

Voice would never be silenced again

his message will continue to be heard

Get Off Your Knees and DO Something

I write this to you Christianity

What matters more

that we pray for

or feed the hungry

the flow of manna from heaven

today is nowhere to be seen

other than where it is with the help

from the hand of man

Was it not to be shared with all of gods chosen

by your word, your savior came to save all

his father fed them in the wilderness

he fed them on the mount

yet many die today of starvation

why must even one go hungry

This world has a glut of food

all it needs is to be shared

distributed to those in need

yet so much is thrown away

I guess it's less expensive letting it go to waste

when the bottom line is your desired taste

I have to wonder

those who feel that need to pray

and then do nothing to help

do they not see

that they are the answer

for what they pray for

their hearts would not have been touched

if they weren't

Or is it just more of the same lip service

Even if we were just to sit down

and share half of our sandwich

we would be helping them

renewing their faith

restoring their spirit

helping to ease their pangs of hunger

prayers without works

my friend, they're dead

as your heart is unchanged

where is your head

do you not understand

you've been called to good works

to help and feed others

should be looked on as perks

never a burden

rewards then received

as smiles grace a face

with their hunger relieved

Beware the Rose

He spent time in the garden

moved too close to the rose

was pricked by it's thorn

the love he had given

was returned with pain

Come sit with me

There is this stream

it carries the music of life through the forest

calming the soul and spirit

of any and all who spend time

listening to its song

As I sit by waters edge

my toes being kissed by its gentle current

I find an unexpected blessing

one that has always been there for me.

All that was needed

was for me to come and accept it

To get here I left a world

ravaged by a rushed

and impatient society.

Its greed and lack of kindness

has taken its sad toll of far too many

That world would have owned me as well

had I not come to this place

far away from the mean streets

away from the get ahead at any cost attitude it has

free of the stress it imparts

It is a place of true comfort

more tranquil than one could ever imagine

The stream flows through me

its music feeds my spirit

its song fills my heart

The thoughts of that other place

now washed from my mind

it seems as though I have grown new ears

I have learned to listen in a whole new way

my eyes opened now to beauty

wherever they land

my heart, opened wider than ever

being filled with great joy

I have never known such peace

I think I'll stay awhile

Is There No Winning

I tried patience

Always waiting

Mostly for peace to arrive

Believing in their goodness

Every man

Inside and outside of our circle

Need our respect

Giving it is the least we can do

Can we come together

Each of us

Not just in words

Something much more is needed

Our actions are the important part

Reviving the spirits of others

Even when we feel at the bottom

Determines our destiny

Our Masks

To wear a mask

an avatar

we're insecure

and it's quite bizarre

that we lie to folks

both near and far

in hopes they'll see

our rising star

while scared of that question

of who we are

Life Leaving on Track #1

A single rail

a closed mind

no switches

ignoring that there are other paths to travel

there is but one destination for the train

leaving a single direction to see life

the rest of the world is lost

there is no growth

some think it to be quite a ride

there is nothing that is unexpected

others see it as a train wreck

for them the lack of variety brings stagnation

Arrogance, Man's Worst Friend

The arrogant bastard

went ahead, said his peace

his ultimate end

was a soul to fleece

killing a spirit

breaking a heart

sowing discouragement

right from the start

knocking men down

from his great altitude

he was an egotist

with a bad attitude

but to his dismay

what he didn't expect

that he never received

other peoples respect

his knowledge was great

why wouldn't they listen

with all of his schooling

he believed his opinion to glisten

eating at him

he'd continued his fight

hoping his words

would push others to flight

then with great disrespect

as his means to his ends

he found himself all alone

without any friends

I Guess I Should Be Thankful

I had met an intellectual

he said I was wrong

but he never really wondered

the reason I had for my song

He went about finding my faults

it seems that's what intellectuals do

and I suppose the reason

is to prove they're so much better than you

Well he was so insecure

with all the crap that he knew

he began to nit-pic

and the list of course grew

I said go ahead speak your peace

point out all of my gaffes

make a fool of yourself

while my friends and I laugh

He then moved away

his tail was tucked under

but I'm sure he'll be back

to point out my blunders

So thankful I am

for all the help that they give

for with a good hearty laugh

is the best way one should live

Who Was The Real Criminal

Love

how useless

you find it

it leaves

Now you tell me

it was infatuation

you played with my heart

left it in pieces

How many others were there

no-one else need ever be cautious of you

never again

as I was your last