What's wrong if I have a car
that's just like yours.
My house and yard is free
of debris.
My fence is white
just like yours.

what's wrong?

I don't bother you at all
yet you dislike me.
I believe in freedom just
like you.
Why are you so right and
in your eyes everything
about me is so wrong.

what's wrong?

I love my children and
I do my best to teach
them the right way
to go.
Yet in your eyes they don't
deserve to have freedoms
like you want to claim for
yourself.

what's wrong?

What's fair is fair as it should
be for the world including
people like you and me.
Choose to see love and peace
yet you seek to destroy.
What's in your mind and
embedded in your heart
it's troubling to me.

what's wrong?

Buried deep in the clutches
of unknown fear.
Knives hanging from ceilings
edges sharp like a spear.

Chaos confirmed to be defined
worst than it's meaning.
Bloodshed and tears running
like water hot and steaming.

Missiles become a common
thing bursting in midair.
In the clutches everyday people
live in total despair.

Nothing is simple anymore
for its complex situations.
Extreme greed and destruction
threatens all creation.

No one is immune from falling  
through the clutches pitfalls.
Evil has a way of waiting for the
right moment to make its call.

thoughts of danger
acts of violence
self pity
always find it's way
inside my dreams.

destruction, malice,
cruelty and fear  
take place
of thoughts
that should be
a smiling face.

hostility
forceful actions
unwarranted
only to satisfy
your dreams.

pointed knives
dangerous hatred
expelled promises
of tomorrows
sunshine.

distance and years
apart
won't erase
the pain
caused by you.

frightful visions
of flying fist
words of anger
unwarranted
evil.

years ago
still here today
it happened
inside my dream
it never goes away.

the kid inside of you
disappeared and
became something
else.

a wolf that disguised
itself as a lamb
you destroyed
life.

you set traps to only
appease yourself
you mangled
viciously.

you were determined
you were strong
taking others
selfishly.

you now roam alone
the victor basting
in self
glorification.

Sometimes I don't know about
who I am.
I puzzle myself trying to figure
out who I am.

Am I the crazy one, the one who's
crazy.
Am I the one who can't be the
one who's misunderstood.
Do I care to even try to be the one
to understand just who I am.

Who am I

What do I stand for

Is it really me who wants to
be who I am.

Sometimes I wonder.

Hatred was more important to her
than me being a father.
If she couldn't control my life she
had no reason to be bothered.

For all the good things I offered there
was always something wrong.
Her ideals of having good times
involved the use of knives, sticks
and stones.

Keeping quiet because of the child
I thought it would be best.
The child turned out to be more of a
reason for mom to care even less.

Terror was buried deep inside of my
soul but it had to stay hidden.
I knew that my child was being
used as a tool for bidding.

If I wouldn't give in to the abuse
or pretend to be happy and nice.
Storms of abusive behavior would  
arise without the abuser ever
thinking twice.

A self inflicted separation came
by the end of the day.
A lost child forever used to settle
the score for me walking away.

Sometimes a man find himself
encased in a total stare.
Memories of the abusive one
whose aggressions he could
no longer bare.

No one would listen because
of the fact that he is
a man.
Nobody cared to go to his defense
nor tried to understand.

The gender card was exploited
and always on
full display.
Lies held against him will always
be until his abusers dying day.

Hurting inside because
the man forever lost
a child.
The abuser stands by watching
with an aggressive smile.

The abuser never cared
about nothing or the
damage she caused.
She was more concerned about
the good image to be lost.

What his child look like today
the man he just
cannot say.
He finds himself stuck with
the image of yesterday.

His abuser has purposely torn
away parts of his heart
for many years.
His eyes has never dried up
from the many tears.

Avoiding the abuser this man
had to be the one to pay
a lifetime price.
Escaping the claws of the abuser
the child became the
ultimate sacrifice.