"Standing On The Side Of The Road" I am standing here on the side of the road - Trying desperately not to be seen It is the middle of your busy day You do not notice me with your latte Guarding against the cold wind- Frozen inside outside walking here and there No mansion or house to put my belongings, no one to care- I am standing here on the side of the road- Not the trash you just tossed away That latte and uneaten muffin, my only meal today Standing here, shivering in the city alone No one to shelter and love me in the biting cold You are busy, I know, but see me please Life is not pleasurable or one of simple ease I once had a home and a family too Rushed through life, busy like you Forgotten and discarded in the corner cafe Wishing for more than your morning latte My only hope, made it last all day Trying hard not to be in anyone's way Standing on the side of the road It is where I live, where I grow old Please remember when you rush by T
Deny Destroy Defer Disgrace Dreadful Double Speak Death Destruction Demon Devil We must change, we must change, we must change. Children should not die at the hands that hold weapons such as these. We must change. Rights are not rights to slaughter. Nonsense in mass murder. Cowardice in suicide. Children should not die at the hands that hold weapons such as these. 12/14/12...not again...my heart hurts for Newtown Connecticut and the 20 children and 6 adults murdered at Sandy Hook Elementary School.
There was a primal scream so loud is shattered the chandelier overhead. Fists pummelled the stiff body lying in repose on the velvet cushions inside the polished mahogany. Utterances of anguish emerged from many decades of compliant silence. Unanswered prayers now to be buried in the heavy chamber of clay. Fury burned the eyes were widows tears should rest. Strong limbs enveloped heaving frame pulling back to life. Wells of unspent tears erupted like a levy broken flooding out unspent waters. Screams of rebuke to the sewn lips and penny shut eyes for the years of fire from a controlling tongue. Weeping and sobbing to heaving and breathing the clay to burn fury in hulking frame no more. Gentle touches and breezes to douse the pent up searing of the soul to be released for a tomorrow yet to be. Too much living lost waiting on the dying to end the chain that binds.