America is red, white, and blue,
the colors that stand so brave, and true.
Men in battle facing death,
Men in the world provoking crime, and theft.
America stand up on your feet,
Hold proudly out the flag, tenderly, and sweet.
America is home of the true,
Of people at peace like me, and you.
Red is for the blood in battle we do shed, white is for the peace we all share,
But sometimes we seldom even care.
Blue is for the sky where our fathers have gone, and stayed,
Watching us as we fight for peace both night, and day.
We May Be Little
We may be little, not to tall,
but the love we share is above all.
To be little is just fine,
if I were tall I'd run, and hide.
Short people are here to stay,
so giants get out of our way.
Trampled in life by big people's laughs, because they think we are so small,
they think they are so smart, just because they are tall.
Ha! ! I say to these giants, for short is all right,
and if they don't like us because of our height,
We won't go down without a fight.
(I wrote this back when I was a teenager, and living in Chicago.
A Daughter Through The Eyes Of A Father
(Dedicated to Bww and his 7 yr. Old daughter)
A daughter is beauty at its finest.
Heart of an angel, soul so pure, and sweet.
Daughters are one of God's most precious gifts that he has bestowed upon the world.
Angels in Heaven do not compare to thine beauty, and grace my ever so beautiful, and lovely daughter.
Seeing you at birth brought more joy to me
than all the money in the world could ever do.
You are morning, bright, and shining,
you are noon, you reside at the highest point in my heart,
you are the dew kissed night.
You are my daughter, heart, and soul.
Daddy Please Don't Hurt Mommy
A little girl stood crying as the father beat the mother,
next to the girl stood her older sister, and older brother.
Alcohol was the demon that drove the beating hand,
the mother bruised, and sobbing cowards from the man.
Why does daddy do that thought the little girl?
Oh how I hate my father, he's the worst person in the world.
The mother now alone in the bedroom with a razor above her wrist.
'Please mommy don't do it, ' the youngest child did persist.
The father starves the mother, three days in a row,
the little girl hates her father, yet the father is too drunk to know.
Is alcohol the problem or does there exist more?
The little girl's answer comes from her sobbing mother lying hurt on the cold, hard floor.
If We All Were Like Children
Once there came a child approaching a gentle brook,
Dipping his hands into the water, a small fish he took.
It wiggled, and squirmed, freedom it did seek,
It made the child laugh, and squeak.
Then playing opossum it lay still, and pretended was no more,
the child lay the fish upon the rocky shore.
The fish knowing it was almost free,
flipped up in the air with child like glee.
The child tried to grab it back up,
but the fish very quickly kept flipping up.
It hit the water, and off it did swim,
the child shrugged his shoulders, and gave up on him.
Attention being short, the child saw a bug,
ran off to catch it, and give it a hug.
If everyone were in their hearts like children we see,
then the Earth would be Heaven, and life would be free.
The Black Widow Bride
He looked into her eyes, and asked her why she was so engrossed in the book, instead of him.
The young bride, upon her wedding bed replied, 'to read a book, is to step into a world beyond the ordinary.
You open a world where imagination, fantasy, and even pain become one with you.
You can feel as though you are a part of the world in which you have magically fallen into.
It has accepted, and possessed you in every way.
Your mind can take you anyplace, anywhere, at anytime.
You can become one with the Medieval period, romantic fantasy, comical adventure, and total horrific terror.
So grab a book, and live the life you've only now have been dreaming about. She looked at her now sleeping husband, turned the cover of her book over, and thought about how much he looked like the dashing man on the cover of her romantic adventure book.
She kissed him upon his forehead, and plunged the knife deep into his flesh.
The Tale Of The Trucker's Life
The young bride sits alone in her house,
waiting for her farm hand husband to return to her lonely bosom.
Enters the husband, tired, and cranky.
He goes to the stereo, hooks up his headphones,
and falls asleep listening to country, and western music.
The bride long since gone to bed alone.
The young mother, and her toddler son
in front of the TV watching movies while the
husband/father works third shift at Wal-Mart 25 miles away.
The mother takes her son to his baseball games,
explains why daddy can't come,
because he decided to be a truck driver.
She is mother, father, and sole teacher to there young son.
She wipes away his tears when he is hurt,
Comforts him when he is sick,
and makes excuses for the absent father
who never has acted like he loved their child.
Who wipes away the tears that the
mother/wife sheds every time she sees
how much their son misses his daddy.
[...] Read more