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beautiful agonies
the feeling of being
torn apart; remake
yourself. I'm made
of pieces but still
whole. Something
different with the
silhouette of who
you remember; is
that enough for you?
I worry it'll never be.
waiting for a hand to
reach out that was never
there, no one to help me
I was alone, made stronger
but I didn't need to be strong,

I needed to be safe.
It's to the point that I don't really like when people use "strong" to describe me, I know it's meant to be flattery, but I'm tired of feeling like my trauma defines me entirely.
Feels like a curse
An urge to work for
Getting more and more
Of things I can hardly
Enjoy anymore
I seriously need some vacations...
She standing there with her gin and tonic
Holding it like a cross
ripe for crucifixion

She turns to smile making sure you see her
Pouring out wiles of affection on the somebody that's brand new

It's like an arrow through your affliction
Cutting deeper than the burbon on your breath
Is it her way of making up a torture test ?
Well the answered would be . . . YES !

Well it's sometime between midnights
It's anytime now all of the time
She holding the arm of leaving
with the intention of her new guy she's deceiving

There's no amount of Bourbon you hush
It can't flush away the ghosts

And it must be between the midnights
It must be the last of last call for toasts

The band's quit for the night
The pianist twinkles on the keys of exhaustion
I whisper to the glass of ice
Everything's going to be alright
Best to err on the edge of caution
and learn how to roll with the dice
If John the Baptist
were alive today
he would be wearing
second hand clothes
with holes in them .
He would be living
on the streets
with cardboard
for shelter

He would be
eating out of garbage cans
but he would never
need to beg

He would be
on every street corner
telling us we must
repent and to prepare
for one coming
that would be greater
than him

And no one
would be listening
to a homeless
man on the street
The Romans taxed by auctioning off the right to collect taxes to the highest bidder . Then the tax collector  would tax enough to cover his cost and
make a profit .

These were the toll-takers , custom-takers for the Romans , and most of them were greedy grifters . They were hated by the people . They were called Publicans because they took up publica , the goods of the Empire .

Publicans are still here today collecting taxes but they like to be called by their new name , Republicans .
Please be kind
Have patience with others
They may not be like you

Please listen
Take time to understand

Please be careful
It’s a difficult time
Your actions may affect others

Please don’t harbor anger
It doesn’t help a situation
Step away if you have to

Please have an open heart
Instead of a closed mind

Please offer love instead of hate
It lifts us all up
Offer someone a smile

Please stand in the light
Instead of the darkness
Lift up the world
With your special light
They say that you can hear them as they're rattling their chains and they'll tell you each and every one of those old soldiers' names,

I go blank, but say thank you,
a response that is automated
regurgitated
for everything that seems outdated.

But the wind doesn't whistle for everyone
this is the time to get your glad rags on
and forget it all, have a ball
beacuse
it has been and gone.
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