To the tune of Five For Fighting's "100 Years to Live"

From "Frogs For Fighting"
Kermit Sings:

I'm just a simple green Muppet,
Good old friends with Scooter and Fuzzy,
And I'm small and skinny,
A quiet frog that's on the roam.

Animal's clearing out the whole fridge,
There's a Muppet chef inside the kitchen,
Making gibberish sounds,
Boiling a goose or baking rolls.

Piggy I'm alright with you,
No other Muppet pig will do,
MRS. PIGGY-there's never a wish better than this,
When you've got a hundred Muppet Tears TO GIVE...

I'm searching stars at the moment,
Still the frog-I'm just in love with a pig,
Dream of a connection,
A constellation for a sign,

Count goes "AH AH AH" when counting,
Cookie Monster's nomming on the cookies,
Snuffleupagus sounds like he just might have a cold...

But Piggy I'm alright with you,
You've got much might-no one can kick **** quite like you...

But piggy I'm OK with you,
MRS. PIGGY-there's never a wish better than this,
When you've got a hundred Muppet Tears TO GIVE...

Through a small Muppet's eyes
Can tell you no lies,
Bunson's Lab-a surprise,
Madness, havoc explode,
Beaker's running to hide,
We're moving on...

I'm feeling light at the moment,
Small as can be-the sky-all I view,
And I'm just reeling,
High up in the clouds-a message in blue,  
...Mrs. Piggy I'm alright with you,
You're black belt in Karate and Kung Fu,
Super Grover's on his way,
Every Muppet has their dog day...

Wooohooo-oohoohoo
Wooohooo-oohoohoo
Wooohooo-oohoohoo-ooh­oohoo

Piggy I'm alright with you,
There's no other Muppet pig like you,
MRS. PIGGY, there's never a wish-better than this...

When you've got a hundred Muppet Tears TO GIVE...

You hold me in your arms and caress
My hair, I feel so soft as a feather, I grasp
At your short dark hair...so light and smooth.
Until you are kissing my neck, you move
Along so graceful, playful-wild-all that you do.
You hold me so close, I feel as if I am lost
In the world of natural love, like there is
A never-ending supply, gold from the skies above.

In time I am rocked back and forth between
The ebbing tide like a flow of water from the sea
Is holding me. It keeps me in a form of motion
Not unlike I am a boat and your arms are the sea.
Visuals aren't needed, this is all I feel and all I see.
We are sitting there in the green green grass,
It's a beautiful warm day, all sunshine and soft rain,
As if it was brought about from a world so divine.
We will forever be in this place...we'll always stay.
It's always 1989...always 1989...

You just stood there, arms at your side,
The playground filled with silence, you moved on,
Walking away, your dark hair, balding head,
I called out but you just left me there, left, gone.

You were always so gone, but even then I may confess,
It's psychology, did you intend to leave me there?
I was helpless I felt no one could save me,
I cried and cried and wondered if you ever did care.

My pain burst and the tear drops in my eyes,
But these were no ordinary fears, for some reason I guess,
You'd been there for only more than two years,
I think you put them into me, maybe you weren't the best?
Well the belt, the whip, the hate the pain, you always were
There for guilt trips and blame, was it all just me?

Such a dark person, perhaps you seemed to want us believe,
To trust you that this thing God was a man, that it's all "Pater Pan,"
Although Disney was racist, but that's hard for some to conceive.

Like the ring of a bell in the distance
some trance which in an instance
can seem like it lasts an eternity,
I embrace the natural wild just as much as I can,
I know it's not a normal thing
but life is short and I am happiest free.
Lost in the moonlight halo or entrenched
in active chaotic madness, it's all the
same to me. A vagabond, a fool,
I earned this by word of mouth alone,
never again truly kissed, scarred and yet my poor
living is sacred, there is no place I can call my own,
this all I am thinking as I drift off to sleep
for the very last time, as you hold my shaky hand,*
there is little I'd have left for my journey while
they take all they can that is left
of my world all for the sake of greed,
of nothing but selfish sentimentality,
I am already guilty, instantly proven guilty,
so for once let me be.

So many times before I sat there watching
Waiting, vegetating, it's so aggravating,
Waiting for this hell to freeze over.
I am in an ice box, I guess that's good as long
As it's inside a place I live, because then at least
I get to pace around or dream as is.

You sit there patting me on the head like I'm a stupid dog,
"There there, you'll get over your dreams. We all had to
At one point." I'm supposed to just sit here and feel golden,
This my darkest hour, the only thing I have left is that
I'm here where I can be a "pretty flower," but still I feel
I have no future with all of my dreams stolen.

I would give anything but to feel the fires of youth and life,
Now I get to be whatever else and poor as I am "free."

*One man's trash is another man's treasure, indeed...

There was once a man who's hands were stained with oil
And at church he was taught of being kind,
How it's wrong that men are enslaved and toil
And that God frees all slaves in time.
But he wouldn't give to the poor
-And never found a reason to ask why,
Then he stole gold from the land as never before
And enslaved the lands peoples lives.
But there was once a man that aimed the slaves be set free,
He would speak out in order to save the slaves
And he'd fight for their victory
So that Africa's heart would be saved.
And never ever was the tree to have life again
Until Africa's heart was set free,
He must free the lands people then
From sea to shining sea.
And never ever would the spirits thrive again
Until he led her people to overcome,
Her children must be given life once again
Africa's children must be given our love.

Addiction to this
Way of life, this country pride,
While others love it

I'm sorry
Sorry I wrote these sad poems
Sorry that it had to end this way,
Sorry you saw a part of me in pain.
Sorry I had to cry on your shoulder
And ruin your perfect day,
Sorry I told you what I really feel,
Sorry to you it seemed so unreal.
I'm sorry
Sorry this poem had to come undone,
Sorry but this isn't the only sad one,
Sorry that it seems that there aren't any better ones.

But the hardest thing I've ever had to try to accomplish
Is write a happy poem when I'm feeling glum...

I had my ten seconds of fame,
Underneath the low hanging vine
Of a wire, that was my calling anyway,
To be one who had the guts to inspire
Others with dangerous games and tricks,
Risk others lives in the name of getting kicks!
Skateboard in hand, rockets flying, grand stands,
Kartwheels, I'm just a teen boy without hair,
Why should you all act like you care?
Into this black hole lifestyle of mine,
I could never give up or dare to quit,
But hey, it wouldn't be "my life," would it?

On my journey to the center of the world
Of phantoms dreams, I find all my thoughts with
Mysteries. The moon is shining bright and there
Must be a werewolf out tonight. In the dark I see
Ten people in white-a group of preachers, cursing the
Zombies, and I can also tell the vampires around
Every corner must be down below. Every night it's the
Same, the sanity of reason never seems to be
In anyone's brain...the full moon comes I hear
The wolfman call, this seems like a normal night
In fall, but then I can tell you it's just filled
With witches calls. They cook their roasts and cast
Bolts and hail, and I can hear them chant while I'm
On the speeding city Light Rail.

I'm trying to "help the community,"
Trying to make a "healthy impact,"
I have a goal in mind, set,
It's all laid out ahead, before we've met.
I am forever "blessed,"
I can lose my moral traits when convenient.
I have all of the "virtues I was given,"
Most always fail me. My hindsight vision, "20/20 perfect,"
I've got a "healthy" set of norms and a
Pair of able legs, I am in the right
When I stumble and I'm not wrong
When I am told otherwise,
I've gotten somewhere at being in control,
Now I let strangers into my home and
Set up a world in which they're rights can be
Defined based upon my living. It's my decision.
If it's tolerable, I decide.  How soon you have to
Be finished and even how you're to be judged.
I am judge jury and executioner. I can make it
A "grand" money-making excursion. My family
As a group of strangers who "care," I never distrust.
Always and ever at my side but in the background,
We will see to it that this is somehow legal,
So long as no actual authority are around,
*There's no one who can stop me now!

A million words, a million thoughts,
We've all been here writing till the end of time.
What new ones may have been brought?
It's all I can think of, did something happen?
Am I still original or am I out of line?

"Soon-to-be-victorious" you start the  song,
A dirge of memories past, till the very last.
The rhythm sounds like 'other time folk music,'
Played to an *****-like effect,
I guess you would be able to out-do my
Eccentric best.

Keep playing that well worn traditional back-days song!
You know I was here to **** you down all  along...

So far nothing new is happening.
This is just history repeating itself.
One day all love will cease to have meaning,
It will just be something you can purchase,
Like buying plot on the Moon or Mars,
Or war or knowledge or emotions or words,
We'll just pretend it's all real.
A strange, vain culture we've developed,
Why everything is a steal.
And we never learn, we live in fear, do the same
Ridiculous things that "work" over and over again,
Why you can see how it's just a valley of blades,
One day you will realize it's only a matter of when
Some will wind up getting left in the dust, others in the gray,
I've got a hunch that one day if we wait long enough,
Eventually we will wind up in the dark again.
There will again be hell to pay*

Only a matter of when...

The Raw, Wild West Indeed!

I'm in a raft you gently paddle
The sense of this argument that comes
To me and tells me I've been a wild fool,
Better off smothered, a tool,
That entraps me in this triangle
of guilt, fear, and waves of madness.
I am on the verge of a total meltdown
Because you sing gently and dip your oar
Into the water quietly.

All the time!

It's now finally sundown,
Still the ebb and flow of my nerves
Are unsettled as the world spins around me,
My stomach in a knot I can't breath.
This is the end and *my heads numb, I can not feel,
There is one thing on my mind and it won't
Go anywhere so it disappears a distant hush.
There is the scent of flowers on your tidy scarf,
It reminds me of the fragrance of too much
Cologne. I try to escape but you hold all the keys,
*I just wish your boring "epic" show of modern
Over perfection would leave me alone!

Whenever I hear the rain tapping,
Pulsing like a heartbeat, the cars tires sloshing
Pulling each torrent of water in every direction,
And sending drops flying like tiny clear pearls.
The wind like an invisible giant bends on a large tree
As the speeding train comes the cross lights flash
As red beaming orbs, like a heartbeat, off and on, off,
And so on a fast car slows so you can see forever as
Someone emerges, soon from beneath its window pane.
A dog barks and a lady screams, and then the rain,
Gleaming as the red flashing lights,
Slows to a drizzle.

This is the other side of sanity!
I think to myself,
a riddle in the middle of chastity, vanity?
what is it that I have to say?
Is this not another day or is it a play?
Vaguely we are tossed into this
post hence I have seen the other side-
this day with you...this day that never came.
I will not be able to tell the difference of pleasure
or pain.

I am still lost dreaming on to the memory,
you stood there in the middle of high school square
doe-eyes intent, hidden behind you're intense
endless hidden truth, your boyish youth.

A dream of gazing into those eyes some day,
I never wanted to say goodbye or go away,
this world carried me to the "other side" and it was
"too late," I was unable to "succeed." Who am I
to seek this "other side?" In the sky?
What we never do? Call this "side" what you will,
but in the end I would have gladly battled madly
through hell for a chance to share your world with you.

Oh, here I go again, blithering sadness, sad poem!
Look to the skies when you're alone, then maybe
on the clearest of nights when this whole world
they've built of stone is gone you will finally find out
how beautiful you are so.
Even if I never got to see you understand this or
spend another day with(out) you...you are all
I can't get off my mind no matter how hard I try
I will continue to see you can't forget you
Even in my wildest

The question is asked again and again,
Where do we come from? Who are we?
All throughout life men and women great
And foolish have attempted to explain this,
"In a moment all will be explained,"
"If you pay more money you will be cleansed,"
"Not worshipping is the realm of the insane,"
"With these soft spoken incantations you will mend,"
So where do we come from? What is all this?
From rushing water, breath of air, no need for
Recognition, it's all miles away in some deserted
Forest, to be left for later generations to forget,
Let this be an answer, why are we here? I shall
Obtain eternal life if I just hold this vile
Closer to my heart, a work of vain art,
This isn't life, this is the illusion of life,
The answer nestled in a small cave,
The birth of a newborn bird, a ripple in a pond
From a rock that fell during an earthquake,
A vague reflection of a deer in it's surface gleam,
All of this and more, the darkness of night,
Cloaking terrors real or imagined, what is this?
Maybe one day we will know? This is how fools
Are born, clinging to this or that, a drop of water
From a vile, an answer from a simple written text
That proves it's all happened thus far. This is why
Fools are born of this, opportunists, blinded by dust,
The great way of those who gather to take advantage,
This is where the greatest numbers of fools gather.
Far away, the beautiful forest, I may not know what brought
This all to life, but I do know what is worth saving
And what only fools shall save for themselves...

Now don't get me wrong,
This whole time that I was trying to understand
What you wanted, I couldn't help but notice
That I can't make sense of it all along.
This and that, blind tales, you have my full
Undivided attention, filling my head with
Strange and odd promises, telling me that
Although it seems unreal, you could just
Let them all in. If I took your "sound" advice,
If I'm alone, I could sleep with people on the street,
Put all of my food and drink upon
The ground, drag food around, your obsession
That I should feel fine to just pick it up and eat,
To try to defy my "religious" obsession, always
Try to be the one in charge, look for opportunities
To go off and put away or slay the "baddies" at large,
Become the person of the hour, or a follower,
Get a job where I can sweep floors and wipe tables,
So that I'll really be excited for the first time doing
What I do for a living, even if I'm not really able.
Who cares if this life throws everything bad at me,
I'm ready to attack all of the things that hold me back,
Even go for the things that don't interest me, instead of
Letting them be! YES, I believe "everyone" should work,
Even if they are really lost, psychologically unwell,
Major transportation issues and other real
Problems, No matter what we've been through,
No matter the actual real life hell,
We were all brought into this world to be
JUST LIKE YOU as well!

It's argument time...woohoo! Not...

Here goes. I will personally start by letting you know
that we have more time on our hands to dispute
everything from waste of space to using up brain cells.
There's no use trying to pretend!
You and I will go on about this,
I will be "the problem." I will have "no alibi"
and may go on to lose my argument (as always) in the end.

You see the writing, the truth in life,
Behind the painting of joy, none can say.
An empty room, a seat wherefore to write
Things that come to mind in full light
Are burnt by the light of the world's day.

You feel like you're going to pop,
Hold on it's quite the same as when you
Were a kid, you're just watching empty
Drama and behold, after all you're just a 'clay mold,'
This is the rest of  your life. Do as you're...

No going back, you see the clock count
The endless hours of one meaningless
Waste of natural beauty as it will someday decay.
This is all that's too come, soon at least they will
Earn a fortune in time, all that's left of the sun
And the stary night sky...is 'Ashen Gray.'

Some consolation...
I **** at all the things I'm BEST AT.
That's how I feel now.
Sorry to ruin everything for everyone.
I will go away now.
Please God, pray let me disappear somehow.

On foot, several soldiers in camouflage with flares ignite
A blaze of bright red sparklers, parting the thick murky haze,
Enough at least so that we could be seen, waiting for a
Helicopter to get to the rocket for my journey Into space.
I climb inside, they load up the cargo bay with supplies
And then 8...7...6...5...came the countdown and when it
Came down to it, I felt like putting my head between
My knees as the combustion sent the rockets from 2nd
Gear into 5th. As the flooding white light of nuclear bombs
Lit the sky I was sent hurtling up at maximum speed,
Beyond that of sound-and then total silence-so I check
The air tanks air and the fluid dispenser for water supply,
Only in minutes did I realize how many were gone, only
In seconds did everything die.

I know I'm just "stupid and crazy,"
But yea, I don't believe there's a god.
Also, I don't believe you want a "free country,"
That you are a cruel cult member who
Is not just here to get out the word, even as your
Bible says to, you're really just here to shove
What you call the truth in our faces,
Always making sure we've heard.

Her short hair glimmered, her eyes frantic,
like a deer in the middle of the grass,
her hands at her sides and a small jacket on
as she continued down the dusty path.
Her arms are soft, delicate like feathers
placed around her amidst small floating leaves.
She stood in the sunlight, with lost letters written
mis-spelled out all across her hand in pen of ink.
But still she had to move on, a young man stood
in front of her like a quick spoiled cat, he was dark,
a strange boy with eyes brown and hair solid black,
I still think about this, stuck on grass green parks,
like autumn days, all the wonder and moments we shared.

Such faded tracks that tell of all our special needy things
These ever needed-ever traded blanket things
They gave us this under cloaked shawl
And disappear into the wilderness. Why?
Because you feel warm? Your giving light beckons all...?
The drab dulls and grays that welcome you into home square,
The spider web in the loft of the ever white inn house,
This is how we are in for living now.
Give me a shovel "I would" dig to Hell's Inferno well,
OK, now you're there, but gold you see is not in there, yea,
It's like they say in the early retirement way day to day,
Your only too old when you can't come out and play!
These questions, unveiling,  appearing from the balcony,
She is in the well made protection for one of small size.
This is all in pure need, we are all in need,
The whole world is in need. Let us need
Until at our enemy necks, with knife and pistol,
Let us need until we must be bitter for the water glass
Is never half full. Let us be in need until we find
That this is how real life was already best destined to be,
Still with empty pockets ever in need of more,
Just keep digging deeper for more anyhow.
Getting even no matter who died was still a must,
All bought with a few million lives.

In God WE Trust...

It's funny to consider the "truth"
What almost every person still believes,
A 2,000 year old religion telling me
That a man walked on water easily,
The Red Sea parted for Moses,
Frogs and locusts fell from the sky,
That every first born child in Pharaoh's
Court died in a single night, slain by a man
Named Jehova, the "only true creator of all life,"
A man survived for a week in the belly of
A whale, Noah and his family were on a
Vessel somehow big enough to house
Two of every last creature and set sail,
These are the strangest tall tails I've ever heard,
And I'M probably corrupted because
I wont actually believe it, not a word!

Bring on the cold!*
You can all leave you're summer clothes behind.
Now is the apocalypse, all will be as society, as
All of civilization never knew once the pipes crack,
Bad weather or blind.

Bastiana as me, being this lady truly that you see,
Within my solemn being, I am a love-a living dream.

You can not keep me from the light,
I am always a part of life, though not in plain sight.

Have a few or two lily's and put them aside,
I give this to the well and cast the spell-bide my time.

I tried the name Sebastian on for size, no lie,
But found myself in love with Bastiana, I can't deny.

Bastiana as me, I know I'm Alan to some degree,
But when all is frozen in time-don't you know?
My love, Bastiana...why this name...it is the one true me.

I have known a silent seashore and been to it so far,
By the deep sea it was like my being in front of a car,
Until it came toward me then I never knew
Before the storm that life could be so cruel to you.

I have needed love and called to reach out for help,
Like an obsessed addict wondering who I should tell.
I wondered what love was and why it hurt,
Before the storm I never knew my heart would burst.

I never knew the pain I'd have next
When my dearest sweetest love left.
Before then I didn't know of the hurt that drills too far,
Before the storm I was not aware from the start.

But now in the end I'm certainly not free
I'm as helpless as I ever could be.
At first I'd hoped love would come to my door,
Before the storm I wasn't aware that my calm seashore would be done for.

Here I stand, a joke, the laughter in my ears,
From everyone who tells me I'm just another of
Those loser queers. A mockery, a beast,
Just an animal to say the least.
I can see when I'm not wanted, don't
Know how many times they've called
My name. Can tell when I've been
Spotted, been lost time and time
Again.

So I sit still, a vagabond, a little over-shocking,
Less and less come to my door, and almost
Always theirs a knocking. I can't recall who
I was, a blurry face in the crowd.
Now I'm always here because, I stand
Out in the misty shroud. I can never be
Heard, yet all can say my name.
Always the loudest booming voice,
Even if I'm "extremely plain."

And so I ask the world, why am I still here?
I've got no one who understands my needs,
No not one far or near. I guess in time I'll
Disappear like everyone knows I should,
Though if you have an itch you'll scratch it,
Even if they find out, like I always know you would...

I am glad that you have a belief.
I am glad that you must always believe.
I am glad that you speak of it as guaranteed fact.
I am glad that you put this "fact" on various billboards.
I am glad that you will "live forever," one well worn past.
I am glad that you have a unique brand of faith-based words.

But you can not make me be able to "see."
But you can not make me feel I need to be "aware."
But you can not make me understand it as fact alone.
But you will not make me enjoy seeing it everywhere.
But you will not make my speech echo it's ideals.
But you can not take away my unique brand of my own.

And you can never break me, whether with "kindness" or "cruelty,"
No matter the guilt trip, I will hold on to what I want to believe.

Your voice echoes in the halls of my mind,
Fills them with a few sweet memories
Just enough to get by until the day I die,
A vague impression that at least someone
Had love that I could seek or find the vine.

But in the end we'll all be in the room,
Standing before the alter, right? Judged.
Some sort of ideal of someone who is
Angry at the world and wants them
To get what's coming to them, no way
To break this cycle with patient time to lend.

Bitter sweet this whine, it grasps at straws,
Seeps its way into our hearts and minds
Where it finds there is someone divine,
That which we must all face his wraith,
"He'll" be the one, this God, his kingdom vast,
To fill our world with firey pain if we all
Don't confess and repent again and again.

No, I'm not here to argue that a God can't exist,*
Or tell you that no one made this world,
That we can't find ourselves in a better place to live,
All I'm saying is that if there were such a person,
Someone behind the mask who made all of this,
They'd certainly not be here to seek so much
A way to make us to pay for every wrong we ever did!

The tankards rest on the table as at an inn,
People sit and eat bread and it's noisy.
I fumble with my new shoes and jerkin
With a muffin cap that I don proudly.
I'm newly dressed in old borrowed clothes
And I run outside and see the Dance Macabe in rags.
While the Faire's parade comes close,
I can see the clouds in the sky blow like white grey flags.
Surrounded by endless hubbub my face beaming
Like the sun shedding light,
I'm smiling from ear to ear
As the man in the moon does at night.

Well, walking into well set traps...
Convince us we're all fools,
Strip us of our cares and make
Us speak only when spoken to.

A victim on every street corner
Pandering for change, the same,
It'll be another dry penniless day,
A vague charade became a silly play,
In this play men and women are cut and dry,
Straight marriage-happily ever after-American pie.

It's always been the same, this silly little game,
And when it's over we'll just pick up the pieces,
Those idiots ruined everything for us, failures,
Before we're finished we'll blame them for it all,
The messed up elections, the crime on the streets,
It's all the libtards fault!

Or is it really? Ignorance is not to far from what makes
This world one where "winners" and "losers" take
Shots at each other, finding they were wronged again
And again and again!

Kind of like in a court room "social brawl" where
Two "feuding families" wont admit they are all at
Fault, all breeding war and pain and suffering in vain.

Sour sweet the taste of bitterness and pain,
What's left of this world, what winds up
Floating down the stream into a drain,
It's man-made perfection-so they say,
They take time and effort filling this world
With so much light, they would be
As if the ones who could defeat death
If but with the brightest bulbs, they'll fight!

But actually in the end there is no way
To cure the common coldness of pain,
Of death, why to attempt would be insane,
I should give in to this lunacy anyway...?
Aren't we a busy bunch? We make for
A strange and power-hungry sight,
The only way off this old earthen rock
Is to find acceptance of deaths plight.

He stood with his face to the firey blaze,
The background sooty and ashy,
He told her "everything was alright, it's okay."
Violent flames lashing and smoke wisps vanishing,
It's just that...every second leads to something,
A cough, a rash...a blank wall...then some monitors,
Then you're dead, it's the same thing every time,
So why not live for good? Why not breath the air
Like you've never gotten the chance to know how,
To run like children into the woods...

*...or you're dead already.

Every weekend at summer camp the
Memories of the midnight walks we made,
The rushing of the silvery creeks
As well as the daily art and games,
Entertainment as well as molding clay,
The mountainside at night gave good
Presence, the moon offering her halo,
With the memory of endless essence so,
During this time of adventurous fun,
A story telling we campers would all go.

Her raspy voice, I can remember well,
Those cute sparkly playful brown eyes,
We walked side by side, she told me that
The truth was being denied, she was a
Girl in disguise, how I dream of her
In Garnet, Alexandrite. That feeling of total trust,
Now I will probably never be close to
Anyone I love again, already grown old,
To old to ever dream, but what a dream,
A lovely bliss to know that she was my friend.

One day, when the time is right, we'll find it,
This feeling again, of wild spirited joy, campfires,
Of following the forest path, now innocence lost,
A time that is long-gone and past, and if it
Never happens again, the darkness of night
With quiet whispering, story time moon light,
I will never forget her, never will I forget that
Beautiful freckled face, those beady eyes,

*No, never forget you, not for all time.

Every weekend at summer camp
Memories of the midnight walks we made,
The rushing of the silvery creeks
As well as the daily art and games,
Entertainment as well as molding clay,
The mountainside at night gave good
Presence, the moon offering her halo,
With the memory of endless essence so,
During this time of adventurous fun,
A story telling we campers would all go.

Her raspy voice, I can remember well,
Those cute sparkly playful brown eyes,
We walked side by side, she told me that
The truth was being denied, she was a
Girl in disguise, how I dream of her
In Garnet, Capricorn. That feeling of total trust,
Now I will probably never be close to
Anyone I love again, already grown old,
To old to ever dream, but what a dream,
A lovely bliss to know that she was my friend.

One day, when the time is right, we'll find it,
This feeling again, of wild spirited joy, campfires,
Of following the forest path, now innocence lost,
A time that is long-gone and past, and if it
Never happens again, the darkness of night
With quiet whispering, story time moon light,
I will never forget her, never will I forget that
Beautiful freckled face, those beady eyes,

*No, never forget you, not for all time.

You know the hardest thing I ever had to do,
Was realize no matter what I ever knew
I would never make sense to you,
Now my words are very few
And what else is new?
My time is due,
Social ruse
I will lose,
I am

*~Through~

They forget pain, forget sorrow,
Then live in the dark, pluck hairs,
For that perfect look of tomorrow,
They sick their dog on the poor, the immigrant,
The downtrodden, the scapegoated. They give no
Honest time to what the less fortunate have in store,
They continue to work themselves for many an hour,
Pick up where they left off happy and content,
That all who oppose them will lose any help
In bringing them down from their cloud of power,
Then they take whatever they were after, laugh,
Chop off any hand or cut off that which "offends,"
That stands in the way and slows them down,
They will get what they are after and be the
Most "handy helpers" helping themselves around.

In the early morning we knelt down,
And in the cool damp kindergarten classroom air,
The whole place bustled with so much sound
As all the children gathered there.
It was then the birds flew in and out
Between the bushes, through small holes,
During days we learned what their music was about
When we sang and laughed with giddy souls.
In the end we'd pronounce our letters dot our i's
And in the afternoon paint while warmed by the sun,
The golden birds one by one flew by,
And in the end our masterpieces were done.
I would come back with brightly cheerful eyes
Each step I'd take up the driveway so joyful, home.
I made a painting in class that day, it got 1st prize,
It was a painting of a sun and birds of my own.