I'm not all that good,
I'm not all that bad,
Maybe one day,
I'm as bad as a person can be,
Maybe on another day,
I'm one of the best you can meet,

Raised in a small town,
Where people gossip
from sun up to sun down,
Brought up poor in a broken
family, only added more,

When I'm out and about,
I get those judgemental stares,
with whispers of, "she's hopeless,
she's beyond repair,

I get worked up so
I purposely give them a reason to
gasp for air,

Of course they all claim to be Christians,
The type that choose clean blue water
to be baptised in,
But I was baptised in muddy water
and I'm glad to say," hey listen up,
I was baptised in muddy water so
I guess that makes me too ***** for
your kind?"

Then I smile to myself because
I know  something they must not,
JESUS WAS BAPTISED IN MUDDY
WATERS, as well.
I imagine it kind of went like this:
Upon meeting Jesus, John said: "I have need to be baptized of thee, and comest thou to me? I imagine Jesus told John it was only right to do so, I can imagine John trying to convince Jesus to at least let him find cleaner waters but Jesus knew so He refused.

You see in the time of Jesus’s baptism, the Jordan river and surrounding areas was no less than now, a river full of muck, *****, muddy, and gross looking, you can’t see two inches into it today nor could you then.

These very people called Christians are the same people who judge so harshly, through the centuries they've compared Jesus's baptism to our own,  with an understandable preference for the clear waters of a Blue Hole over the muddy waters of the Jordan and beyond,

So yeah, I'm all messed up in the head,
Better the head than the heart,
But you've already judged my part.

So if you ever run out stuff to gossip about, just think back and remember,
the small town girl that was baptised in muddy water.
- Author Ven J Arnold / SacredInkedBlood

She laid on stained sheets
that were once pure white,
desperate for love she gave her body away everynight,

With mascara running down her face,
on the floor she laid in the same place,  she didn't sleep in the bed unless it was for a ***** deed,

Soon a gentle touch awoke her from where she fell asleep,
A kinda touch that the soul feels so deep,
She looked up to his face
from his feet,
and
saw that his expression was sweet,
He took her body in his arms,
She couldn't walk from the ******
harm,

Then she felt shame when she realized, JESUS was His name,
In his arms she began to weep,
But he reassured her that he
was in her heart for keeps,

She could not express joy and peace,
after all, not after all of her sins,

She couldn't figure out...
how she ended up in the arm's of
The Prince of Peace,

She was made pure and clean,
White as a mountain snow scene,

God is great,
Kneel before it's too late,
Let Him heal you're wounds and scars, His love shines better than all the stars.

Colored clouds in the sky,
Bird nests held by the trees,
Only if I could reach that high,
I would swirl the sky to make a cotton      candy tree,
Flowers growing ground up,  
All the baby birds nestled in their cribs made of floss,
Incredible spiders on the ground, Then they go round and round,
  in webs that look like invisible rainbow gloss,  
Mother Nature does love,
I love her from the lowest to the highest  above.
-Author Ven J Arnold

Sow good seeds,
They'll bloom blossoms of love,
Add some good deeds,
Invite the sun from up above...
to rise up within you,
So you shall shine with rays of kindness,

You have to **** the weeds,
                                        and
stay away from the snakes,
for you
                                        and
your garden's sake...

Tulips, zinnias, petunias, sunflowers
                                        and
peonies too,
how wonderful for you!

She keeps songs
locked away in boxes
like secrets.
She will take them out
like postcards
to help her remember
the feeling of
a different time,
a different person
by her side.
She likes the one
that makes her
eyes close
to see the lights.
She smiles at
the one that  
makes her stand
up on tiptoes,
the one that
helps her forget
she doesn’t know
what to do
with her hands.

The tune
will carry her.

Like it did
the times when
voices broke
like a heart.
When instruments’ strings
would snap
and hurt.