data
all arranged collimated
in neat rows columns
speading sheets all laid out
on rooftops with SOS
written in red paint calling hecilopters
help us it says
water is good unless it inundates
and is ***** with sewage and the government flies by
looking but doesn't do it
before it ends there are accountants
adding tallies costs against lost lives on
a white sheet a
gamma line
going steadily up to the right corner
of a clean paper sheet maybe a posterboard for added
emphasis
etchy red line exponentially  rising up up away
in that line are lives against costs the government
sitting on markers
red crayons calculators
basing missions against costs like lives are expendable
how much can we spend for a bunch of creoles or  ****** in New Orleans,
someday white folks you gonna be the minority.
I'm
red
I'll rate in the minority
no matter what.

I kind of miss how it was back then. I regret alot of things, but I wish I could go back in time and relive it all, even all the things I regret. Although I may be a bit slow and stupid at times, at least I was a sincere and good willed person. I may not have known how to express myself, but I always did feel genuine happiness being around others. However, now I'm not sure whether I can continue being a genuine person anymore. Although I'm so much more insightful now, along with that insight came more bitterness and resentment to weigh me down. I'm not sure if I have the strength to let the good side of me win in the end. Life really is a struggle. All the more so when you are the only one who can acknowledge your internal struggles. All the more so when you can acknowledge the choices you can make... but you may not have the strength that it takes to not give in to the bitterness and resentment that builds as you grow older. It's so easy to let yourself go, to let your conscience drown and sink into a bottomless, deep, dark pit where there's nothing but just anger, emptiness, remorse, self pity, an empty will to live. It's so easy....
Sometimes all my words are just another hidden form of calling out for help. It makes me feel so pathetic and weak willed, but there is not much else I can do without harming myself or the people around me.
I suppose somewhere within this tangled mess of a life, I just feel lost and dazed, and alone. I don't mean anyone else harm though; I never have and never will.
I kind of miss how it was back then.
Even though I may have been a bit slow and stupid at times, even if that had been apparent, couldn't you all have just accepted, maybe even loved, me for who I was, for the innocence, sincerity, kindness, and unconditional love I expressed?

Gazing up at the luminescent moon
surrounded by a star-dipped sky,
a touch of magic upon the breeze
as the wind blows slowly by.

The coolness of the wind
caressing gently my skin,
like the sweet kisses of you
over and over again.

The wind whispering softly
as the trees sparkle with dew,
with the most adoring of messages
sealed with a soul kiss from you.

Standing in pure amazement
in the glow of that silvery moon,
hoping that magical breeze
will be sent again real soon.
~

Oh, I'd like to throw you in the sky
                      and run you like a kite
Smiling as I'm watching you fly above me
Taking you to endless,
                         breathless,
                         /boundless/ heights

But, oh, my feet would tire soon
And the breeze would drop
                and so would you
And you'd crash down at my feet
And you'd know now that I'm incomplete

                                                     ­       high
But I'd hope you'd remember the
While you're down here dealing with the
                                                                ­          low

I'd hope you had the courage to fly once more
. . . with someone else pulling the string from down below

the proud moments of greatness
seem much louder than
the strenuous, arduous
f
  a
     l
        l

                                  But it is then
                      when our bodies collapse
                    and the crowd no longer claps
                     that the brevity of stars is felt
                 and the call of the siren is heard
              rising from the depths of our humanity
  
( it is only then we learn
that no being deserves disregard
nor should be made a deity
for failing is part of the duality  
that comes with the mortal experience)