To mother, the mother I wish I knew,
if you weren't so drunk each night,
there would be so much that we could do!
We could've played in the park,
you could've pushed me on the swings,
I would've asked a lot questions,
about this and that, and other things!
I would've dug my way to China,
and come back with gold,
I would've discovered the fountain,
that when you drink, you won't grow old!

But we didn't.
Because you couldn't.
Years went by, dad said he quit, winked then left,
you were already tattered and in ruins,
any cry of mine, went to ears, so deft.
I grew up alone, with only your beer stained lips
drooling on my neck,
when all I really needed
was something more sincere on the cheek,
just one small sincere little peck.

But you couldn't manage that,
not after every other night,
so I'd take up the duties of mother and father,
to my siblings you never knew, by the time of first light.

I did the chores, you never asked me to do,
I did everything, did it all, all because I loved you.
That somewhere,
beneath and through the wreckage and trauma,
deep down inside,
was a pretty lady there,
waiting to be called mamma.

But she never came up,
through the blurry, drunken eyes,
you kept your room so dark,
I think you've forgotten, the color of the skies.

My brothers and sister,
we all had to get along,
but I didn't have the heart to tell them,
about you,
it just...it would just be so...wrong!

God, I prayed to him,
but you'd never know,
you didn't care where I went,
or when I would have to go.
I found him in the attic,
where I made it my room,
sure it was dusty and broken,
but I fixed it with a hammer and a broom.

There I had to work,
like not a single soul would,
that's all because I was old enough, and no one else could.
I come home every single night.
Just before you came back from the bar,
because as I watched from above,
you came home in someone else's car.

You missed every birthday,
did you know that?
Every single blessed one,
I didn't care after my seventh,
but after little *****'s first?
I almost told her you died!
My heart was about to burst!
Good God, help me from saying further!

But even years and years,
of your, stupid, stubborn behavior,
I've gained fruit, from all of my labor.
You've taught me things,
even when you were not able,
that things just ain't handed to you,
you gotta lay it on the table.

Ma, I love you, my sibling's would say the same,
they'd love you a little more,
had you quit the drinkin' game.
We found our pa,
he had a little run in with the law,
but he shaped up,
just for us,
he even was there,
when I was shipped out on the Basic Bus.

I'm proud of my siblings,
the way they are today,
I just hope you'll think of us the same,
and say the same thing too.
Some day.

The truth
hurts,
in so many more ways than one,
because it normally ends up,
with someone in tears,
or hurt some how,
as soon as the deed is done.

The angry truth,
it in the minds of the holder,
and the truth seems to be fabricated,
more and more,
as we get a little bit older.

The truth is,
as most people see it,
is all in their head,
and sometimes they'll say it,
and regret the terrible thing they said.

The angry truth,
is when we're all so frustrated inside,
when we want to punch through walls,
when we just want to run and hide.

The truth is,
we're scared, truth be told,
and we feel so very alone,
we watch our shadows like we watch our backs,
and we watch our footsteps, paranoia to the max.

The Angry Truth...
is angry because we are.
And when we take it out on ourselves,
sad truth is,
we sometimes take it too far.
We take it out on our bodies,
in extremes that only those who survived can tell,
and tears shall always fall,
just as the friends we knew, had fell.
Down.

The truth.
We can help.
If we all stood together, side by side,
if we were all here together,
for anyone and everyone who cried.
It'd be a little better,
not matter what kind of weather,
if we all had each other,
to call our sister and our brother.

The angry truth is,
we don't.

The truth, and the angry truth.

Could you handle either of them?

There are worse things
in life that could
happen to you,
there are worse things indeed,
indeed it's true.

You could be struck with poverty, hunger and doubt,
you could be stuck in a home, where all they do is shout,
you could be scarred from all,
the pain you receive,
you could be the one, that come 15,
your house you did leave.

But there worse things than that.
And so I present to you, with a courteous bow,
and the tip of my hat.

We as a people
are called humanity,
yet humanity is a word
a word in which that describes itself,
isn't that absurd?

So what do I mean, with that little fiddle above?
I'm just saying,
the world needs more love.
Love is a power,
beyond all comprehension,
love is something we do more,
than really just mention.

I'm not saying, make love,
if you know what I mean,
I'm saying, love the kind of love,
that doesn't...really need a scene.
Trust me, there are ways.

There are
so many things,
that you can do alone,
but it only seems lonlier,
when you're just a rolling stone.
So get a few friends,
save those precious few,
and know that you're the only one they care for,
yes. Just You.

It's time for me
to wrap this up,
this little work
right on here,
so I can spend my time,
holding those I hold dear.

There are better ways to spend your time.
Did you find the message?
Plainly hidden in this rhyme?

There Are...

Give me the world,
I'll show you the sky!

Give me the Bible,
and I'll tell you
that you'll never have to cry.

Give me your love,
I'll give you everything,
all I want is you for you,
and your hand for this ring.

Too late today,
and yesterday is tardy,
tomorrow is coming
so let's live like we gonna ---

Whoa!!! Wait hold up! What?

Is this what we've come down to?
Party like no tomorrow,
until we start puking up our guts?

No more I say!
It's to ignorant and stupid,
so let's live much better,
much better today!

Shape up, clean up,
these are suggestions what to do,
I'm not your mother or father,
but I certainly won't put up with,
such a careless attitude!

I care for you too much
as a person, at any rate,
call this chance, call this destiny,
you can even call it fate.
I don't care how you label it,
or take a pic, a selfie or two,
just know this, that I'm here for you,
yes, even you too!

I'm no professional,
I've learned to no degree,
it's just that you seemed rather sad,
as sad as you could be.

We don't know each other,
probably not even by a chance,
no this is not a poor thing,
desperate for slight romance.

This here boy,
is asking earnestly to be true,
and this ol' boy,
is saying,
Let me help you!"

We don't know each other,
as strange of strangers that we are,
I don't want to know how close you live,
or even how far.
Just tell me your troubles,
lay upon me the weight on your shoulders,
I won't tell another soul,
I won't ask for other holders.

Love is a powerful thing,
and I believe that it overcomes all,
so don't worry about me,
I'll answer your call.
Call me day, call me night,
call me when ever it does(n't) feel right.
I'm your friend
if you're willing
I'll hold your wait,
trust me the anger, frustration, sadness and bumps from the fall,
isn't worth the killing,
the dying, the self-suffering of it all.

So let me help,
I extend my hands to you,
at least let me hear your case,
that's the least that I can do.

I'll listen intently,
more mute than a gargoyle,
I"ll take all your emotions, from the bubbling to the broil!
I'll be your friend,
no matter the excuses,
because I'm a friend that puts up offers,
and never refuses.

I'll help all I can,
as much as possi-ble,
just remember, that i'm only one man,
and don't worry at all,
I'll never ever find you dull.

I pity you,
though you don't need it,
even so, as a friend, I'll love you still,
and my love will never quit.

So God bless you, and keep you,
safe from others and yourself,
just remember you have me,
and God up above,
if you ever need help.

Because incidentally,
we'd both would like to know,
"Will you let Us help you,
get you to where you need to go?"

Let me help you.

A clear cloudy day,
was all my mind could really come up to say,
about the weather, and the breeze,
when all the time I'm just thinking, "Ah jeez!"
What an embarrassing way to start,
when  I should've been brave, and said it from the heart.

Well,
Once upon a time,
in some dis-tant land,
All I ever really knew,
was the law of
supply and demand!
People always asked for much more than we had,
then we looked back at the people,
penniless and homeless, looking so sad.
Not all of the homeless
were all like that,
I'm just saying some of them,
thought that they wore crowns for hats
and now they're spending all their years,
thinking what could've been right,
instead of picking wrong streets,
and picking more fights.

In a room or a stall, or some where enclosed,
there's a little child crying,
but it seems that nobody knows.
The child is,
who ever it is,
doesn't matter the race, color, ***, or age,
it's just another sad chapter,
with another turn of the page.

There's a war out there,
and one right here, off our telephone,
it's right here, out there, in here,
and when we're alone.
How many years
will it take
for the kids
of this gen-eration, to fin-ally,
learn from their stupid mistakes!
Make one, all fun,
try not to do it again,
but no, gotta do it
for the vine,
so they do it
and then,
one's in the hospital,
with broken bones and spirit,
you'd they kids want to stay out of trouble,
in stead of trying to-get near it!

Once upon a time,
when we neighbors didn't need fences,
only needed for
the cattle expenses.
We worked hard for a living,
as we
still do,
it's funny how work is taken for granted,
until they don't know what to do.
Then it's just to hard,
to try to do better,
and then they think they know it all
until they get the denial letter.

It's a sad world we live in,
a sad world indeed,
it's a sad, sad world,
drowning in sin.

Aye, I said it,
as a Bible-Thumper I am,
I'm only preaching what I know, yes sir, and ma'am.

Once upon a time,
we all strove to be good,
and now we fear our neighbors,
and we take pride that we're from the hood.

Give me back
those summer days,
down by the lake of Cor,
give me back the swing-tire,
where we would never forget, never we swore!

The time of peace and respect,
and a piece of integrity,
where each child of every race,
fought the stereotypicracy!
Where each child would look forward,
to a brighter education,
and worked hard to feed their family,
instead of looking for vacation!

Gone are the days,
which I am speaking of,
gone are the days
where we used with care,
the word of Love.

Now we go out on flings,
hoping to fill ourselves for the night,
but deep down, deep inside,
I know they don't feel right.

Bring me back the days,
oh most lyrical of rhymes,
Oh bring me back once more,
turn back the Once Upon a Times!

They're gone...
now just a dream.

Once upon...
a midnight's dream.

Once.