We all can look at the same tangible object or picture
Yet we both see something completely different
Who is wrong?
Who is right?
Do we truly understand the beauty in which we both see?
Do we argue about who is right?

Just because we all don’t agree or we have are own opinions
Doesn’t mean we all can’t get along
Understanding everyone’s point of view

We all cry
Droplets of tears
That fall down our cheeks
Landing straight in our hands
Leaving an imprint on our hearts
Bottle up the emotions that fell from your eyes
Then you can look back years from now
You’ll be surprised
How many tears you’ve cried throughout the years
Making stronger of a person
Just by capturing your tears..

Happiness is all around
Time can be turned upside down
Love is everlasting space
When I’m within your warm embrace
To have and hold your heart forever
Since the day we said “I Do”
My life has been tremendously better

Pain
Is
Temporary

Love
Is
Always

I pray that may the sacred muses of *****
purge my soul of these malignant spirits:
a cartoon man has cursed the American earth;
O holy panderer & pederast who built
a financial empire in a world of mental
confusion where children
would be ever confused
by cartoons coming to life & the people
who don't exist being portrayed by purebred
people who are nothing like what they portray;
non-profit junkies & skanks & lantern flies
gush out of the fascist *** of corporate lanterns
marching rows of red, white & blue American
suffocating w/ the malignant unchristian spirit
with pagan cliches witchcraft of goth rituals;
brunettes broadcasting their line worldwide
confusing the feral children
with guns who grow up to go off to fight wars;
killing each other in rage as the corporate private
profits continue to rise & there is no room at the inn
for anyone & there the grapes & bees become
extinct so whole contours of bonfires of tires turned
to furnaces & ovens don't incinerate the dead
wholly so parts remain to be buried of course
it doesn't work out that wasted
way every day, it never does & never did.
so says the ancient writing of days of the daylight
host holy manna raining down
on the prophet's head like the shapely young girls
in their sunlit gowns that are spiritual crystal
butterflies of my own making & design