Over the buildings and through the trees,
Under the bridges, and overseas.
Trapped in bushes and stuck on streets,
Wind pushes it with sudden beats.
From town to town city to city,
It floats with bliss and sits with pity.
All through the day it flies high,
And all through the night it passes me by.
Left and right there it goes,
Up and down row by rows.
When the day dims down to rest,
The little bag keeps going to continue his quest.

A
good
laugh
can make
all the difference
in the world

a joke is
a joke is
a joke

I can't
take myself
too seriously

laughing
at myself
is good medicine

Compassion the last one that enters the room
A key trait that isn't groomed
A true character the teachers don't teach
A pure thing that leaches won't leach
Compassion the leader to happiness
The follower of sorrow
Compassion something you can't barrow - d.j. Turner

i have an itch on my heart
i can't get to
unless i write about you.

people say we won't always wear smiles
i wonder why they think we can no longer afford them
who do they think they are
predicting the future like that.

i will not let myself be swept away in the winds of human nature
am i not more than a rock that is weathered and shaped with time?

i have my will
- to adore you, kiss you, feed your soul, wrap you in my own skin and call you home.
you have yours
- to make me feel valued, cherished, loved, happy, touch me in ways that no one else has
God has His.
- to make us happy.

and if we are His children,
are we not creators, too?
coaxers of smiles.
forgers of forgiveness in the fires of tragedy and heartbreak.
carpenters of karma.
what we say and do will follow us throughout existence.

we do not have to fit the mold of the world
although, you've always told me i would still be beautiful even if i was round
even if i went round the continents and stayed away for a very long time

you told me i would still be your "Jenny"
and i believe you

because we are creators
doers
masters of our fate.

i will love you until the holes in my socks stretch wide enough to be a ski mask
and even in our poverty i will slip them off and go to bed with you

you will always find a safe place here.

shattered hopes and broken dreams;
i've really had enough of these.

bring it on!
though, really, i'm just a fawn

so new and struggling to stand,
you should really give me a helping hand.

they help me lots, these words of hate.
they help me to create.

as i sit, i ponder what you said.
and it really gets into my head.

and now i sit here, pen in hand,
and am thankful, now i can stand.

although you didn't help (you hindered)
and though you left me feeling splintered,

i thank you, Dad, for those hurtful things you said.
i thank you, Dad, for the occasional smack on the head.

you've made me strong.

Don't you dare tell  me I am beautiful.
Until you have seen my scars...
That are craved into my body,
and the blood that pours out of my soul..

Don't you dare tell me I am lovely,
until I completely shut you out of my life..
Because I swore to myself,
you are just like the others and you will get sick of me.....

Don't you dare tell me I am flawless,
until you have seen me break down in tears..
I will show you the darkness  that's inside me that's consumes me,
and you will run away form me...

But  if you,
have seen my scars,
my bitterness,
and darkness...
Then I might believe you....