You know the funniest thing that occurred to me,
Is you and everyone like you, buzzing around trailer trash,
Fighting and lashing out at anything you don't understand,
You call us haters, why? That we accept the LGBT community?
Because we wont close our doors to them and "take a stand?"

In my dreams the spirits float far and fast ahead,
Delivering all the souls of the deceased in trips,
Carried to the one abyss their bones still hide the red,
Keep the truth when they are dead, so they are torn as sticks.
These bones carry the truth till they meet one with life,
Reach the fields and the dead part all their fear
With a silence that is deft they use a hatchet or a knife,
So that none can tell that death's dark spirit is quite near.
In the meadow none can see that foot prints have been made,
They walk until dawn is come, so they all must roam.
Misty and translucent, above the earth of wet brown clay,
They shall keep walking until they've found deaths home.

It takes more heart to stand up to the "fire"
When it threatens the very life of your loved ones,
Than it takes to hand some guy easy money
And then go off and help yourself to rich freedumbs.

On this morning the sun rises,
And I leave my new bed.
I get up and go outside and the sun is warm on my head,
Oh the warmth. There are green hills in the distance.
I go to the tree and behold the blueness of the sky
And watch the sun rise as clouds are forming.
All is still and overhead a prairie bird flies.
There is a great field of wheat beyond me.
I lie down and relax staring up into eternity,
And I am already used to this.
I look up smiling and I can really see.
I wind up staying like this for life,
And I’ll never go back,
Back to my way of life before this field of grass I lay on.
It's all a vast encounter with nature.
It teaches me to release my fears and troubles to her.
As the golden sun warms my face, all I see is you.
And as its warmth enters my chest and warms my core,
I feel you in that warmth,
Her summer's beginning.

I always have loved you. Maybe when the time is right
100 years from now, or 20 years, who knows?
In a future life of inconceivable delights,
I will find you again somewhere, amid sparkling nature,
Living on and on you wonder why you can not die,
Like a crystal that will withstand the test of time,
Though you can not ever be the only one,
Be this moment always like this love of mine.

Please, excuse my son, he's not old enough and
He hasn't matured yet just because of his age alone,
Excuse his inability to care about you, "getting ******,"
Excuse his "excessive" interest in girls and pleasure,
Excuse the fact that you even had to hear him speak up,
Excuse the instability in his daily life, it's his fault,
Excuse me for even bothering with him ever!*
I love to hate my son!

Your windbreaker holds back all of the rain that flows
Only seconds away from the curb where you stand,
Puddles distant near and far are the result from the
Violent storm at hand. I'll try to somehow understand.

Your hand stretches outward as if to beckon, but instead
You stick your finger up and let me know how you
"Really feel," but I'm always at your mercy, your dark
Brown eyes hold me in a somewhat helpless-make me reel.

If there was a way to go back to that time and find you there,
What I wouldn't give to tell you how you made me feel.
A lady knows when she's found her love, and there's no way
Without you I'll ever get bye when push comes to shove.