You fell asleep on our way home
and left me in the company
  of Adele crooning about
   making you feel my love.
But that's all right -
You look so peaceful and lovely:

I'll just swerve to avoid the holes
         just so I didn't wake you.

Sometimes I feel nothing but love
for my country
   other times,
utter disgust.

Tonight it was the latter
and as I drove I couldn't help
but curse
my government
  for not using my tax money
    to fill the potholes with more cement.

We get put into groups by the colour of our skin,
Judged if percieved as 'too fat' or 'too thin',
Singled out for looking different to them all,
Perhaps you are seen as slightly too tall,
Name calling and looks spotting is all the rage,
Ridiculous really in this day and age,
Both genders 'beauty' reviewed time and time,
This generation is certainly out of line,
They define peoples beauty by the medias conception,
Letting it alter their personal perception,
The pain they cause to the people they prey among,
Your faith in humanity would nearly be gone,
Who should show these people they are doing wrong,
What they have been causing all along,
Societies segregation and marginalisation,
Creates for us a serious realisation,
History is repeating again and again,
This same thing was happening way back when.
To be yourself today, is something they tell us is not okay,
We need to stop these people , tell them, soon it will be our day.

Hey, old flame! There you burn once again,
Some wood in my fireplace and a cigar lit, burning red and sparking orange.
My blood runs with new excitement for maybe now there stands a chance.

The doctors checked my smile that rumbled with contentment for the months passed, joy didn't last, and my hands shook so bad, a pen couldn't be held.

You and I, wood and gold, sent shivers through my mind, a reoccurring fantasy I never dreamed to forget. You were always mine from the beginning, baby, your fire just had to be lit.

Hatred fills up my eyes with tears, only now did the world lift it's mask to show it's ugly face.
A time of joy and appraise ruined by the cruel and inhuman monsters that roam the ground.
A dawn of new day overtaken by darkness.
Since when did happiness only apply to one kind?
Tell me when did others lives come more involved than your own?
My chest sunken and head lowered for I am filled with shame for my religion.
When did The Judge become my fellow people?
This land is one of law and equal opportunity yet religious views are forced upon all.
When did the love of my people dissipate into this angry vial monster mobbing precious souls of their joy?
Tell me how one deserves to be loved more than anyone else.
Tell me how one love is the only kind of love.
Tell me how can one sit and speak Hell upon another because they chose happiness?
Is it jealously? Envy?
Tell me why

The last time my eyes laid upon the greens and browns of the dinner table, my hands gripped your rough knuckles underneath the table's wood.
As you partook in the role of swallowing your mashed potatoes, my eyes lingered on your throat, catching the way the tiny hairs moved up and down at the grooves of your neck.
And In the same moment your free hand wiped your mouth, erasing any evidence ravishing spaghetti sauce, making every surface of those pink lips visible, the thought of them on mine cursed through my head. Yet now I know what I am thankful for this thanksgiving.
Only now did you look up to meet my gaze traveling your neck; however, your eyes read the same as mine, cultivating desire. Desire and want screamed from the blue of your eyes. Only now did the decision to have thanksgiving by ourselves make sense. Was it five seconds ago? Ten minutes? An hour since there was a full meal sitting on the table that now held our intertwined bodies.
Was it five seconds? Ten minutes? An hour since I wore a skinny black dress that was now in pieces on the floor.
Was it five seconds? Ten minutes? An hour since I appraised the tie you wore with your suit that was now torn into five parts by my impatient little hands.
It indeed had been to long since your body was one with my own, forgetting the beat of the world but with a rhythm of our own.