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For Five long years he fought a war
against the mighty English crown.
At times, it seemed, by will alone
He kept our army in the field.
At Valley Forge our ill clad troops
suffered greatly from the cold.
In New York harbor thousands died,
held as prisoners in foul ships’ holds.
The reverses were many, the victories few
until the world turned upside down.
That day at Yorktown when Lord Cornwallis
And all his troops were brought to ground.
Yet, with our independence won,
the victor would not wear a crown.
Like Cincinnatus, the hero of old,
He lay down his arms and went back home.
Washington was that paragon
He refused all kingly robes.
Liberty lives only because
A free man refused to be a Lord.
Remember, if you would stay free,
the price they paid for Liberty.
Remember George who wore no crown.
His sacred honor deserves renown.
I had to write this as a necessary corrective to the new approved curriculum for AP American History which devotes barely a mention to George Washington, the father of our country, and whose evident purpose is to rob Americans of their heritage
 Oct 2014 LA Brown
Steven Sanchez
16
 Oct 2014 LA Brown
Steven Sanchez
16
Raised among the ruins
Of your apathy
In the wake of disaster
Shackled to a fallen pillar
In this town I've come to call Here After
In a world you stripped of color
Dragged into the cellar
With a plateful of food and some old clothes
Is there a bridge you haven't burned?
Every stone was left unturned
But then, you never needed any proof
As the truth seldom left you burdened
But left me burning under my sixteenth sun
I was once your second son
Left to wander fallow fields
The broken and forsaken one
Staring down the barrel of an empty gun
You taught me nothing
Except how to hate myself
With the whole of my heart
Like you did
Abandoned at the shore of your icy veins
Left to wither in the absence of summer's rain
With a plateful of food and some old clothes
Consider this a eulogy
Because you will never again hear from me
By now we've come to know
That I was born your enemy
Dear mother, I'm sure you still don't miss me
I cannot remember when last you kissed me
And meant it.
 Oct 2014 LA Brown
Steven Sanchez
I am anatomically correct
But atomically, a mess
I am chaotic and undressed
One hundred thousand bricks
Comprised of tiny pieces all compressed

I am a prison for little hollow ghosts
That push until pulled
While I am standing here still
And they climb to the top where they come to a stop
At a grave on a cemetery hill

She fills up the air
With soft falling notes
That burst from her eyes
And dance with the ghosts by the light that once burned
To the song of the Seraphim's sigh

Bring to me a pair of aces
Smiling faces and a cup of coffee
Empty spaces and her heart
Torn from the tearing
Of teeth gnashing, eyes glaring
As I stand here still playing my part
Her music my magic
A cage for the tragic
And the life I've been too scared to start

She used to sing to the storm
With her outstretched right arm
Lines forming from rain that would spill
Yearning to feel something other than real
The night she plunged into the cemetery hill

A call to order is sounded
The drummer pounds for attention
As I'm fixed on the light on the sea
The full moon's reflection is my insurrection
When still burns the fire
In her eyes, I aspire to be
Lifted into the air, without worry or care
Take these ghosts from my bonds and set free
For the chains of despair, when I was made to wear
Sank me into the depths of the sea
But I can now take to flight
On the might of the light
She burns brightly if only for me.
 Oct 2014 LA Brown
Steven Sanchez
One night I lost sight
Of you long before I fell
Under a spell of mistrust
No longer to the right
Of your still and quiet corpse
Wishing for just a little more
More of what you’re not
What you could never be
What you refused to give
To someone like me
So I screamed aloud for what became a year
Barely making a sound
Because no one ever came near
Now whispers crash in waves of echo
And a thunder none can hear
Still not drowning out
The fear that this is not a dream
Until you wake up
You cannot see all that I've seen
In the hour that I dreamt
To find myself alone again
Still not quite sure what it all meant.
This is an excerpt from The Acid Oasis: The Journal of Adrian Blackraven by Steven Sanchez
 Oct 2014 LA Brown
Steven Sanchez
I have sent a drop of rain that you will get some time tomorrow
Two inside a paper cup just to drown away your sorrow
Another drop upon the heart that I now seek to borrow
Three more frozen with the words we kept holding to the morrow
I'll send a drop of rain for each tear that you have wept
One at a time to ease the pain of promises made but never kept
So save the water inside jars, my garden ceiling is turning gray
Each blade of grass a glass-like shard since the day I went away.

In the absence of light, she sang to me a lyric
We had both been awake, but I could barely hear it
And although she was desperate, no sound was left heard
Through her quivering lips, never uttered a word
I listened for hours, as the sun scorched the earth
Until night fell upon us and the moon came to birth
Every dream that we shared, the *** and the violence
She now carries despair and that gut-wrenching silence
Memory of her faded as time grew less relevant
And years fled in the spires of light with no end
I will never know of the things she had said
But I felt them sink into where I lay with the dead.
 Oct 2014 LA Brown
Victoria
But you
weren't.
**** is ****. It took a while for me to learn this. Just because you are dating someone doesn't mean you have to have *** with them. Just because you say you love the person doesn't mean they have a right to your body. You body is yours and God's. There are many ways of manipulation and **** doesn't always have to be a violent act. Threats of suicide and passive aggressive anger and manipulations can wear your soul down. Back handed insults and stabs at your loyalty make you feel like, maybe you should just give in.  This happened to me when I was young. It was still ****. To anyone out there going through it, LEAVE the situation. Tell someone. Psychological abuse is still abuse, and real love comes from the heart. You choose to love and you act accordingly. I didn't get help when I should have. I didn't know what was happening. *** is not an obligation just because you're dating.
 Oct 2014 LA Brown
Haydn Swan
I can’t sleep,
I can’t drink,
got to see a man tonight,
shivers and shakes,
imaginary snakes,
walls closing in,
heads in a spin,
body in pain,
always the same,  
I've got a need,
a powerful need.
I wrote this about a difficult time in my life many years ago, thankfully I recovered but I know for many the struggle continues.
 Oct 2014 LA Brown
Iris Rebry
They think I'm weird for seeming so
Affected,
But does any one else wonder
Why so many people were rejected
With no type of blunders?
People lost God,
They lost their lives,
Am I the only one that feels like crying?
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