Every night, for all my life,
I have prayed the same prayer:

           "God is great,
              God is good,
               let us thank Him
                for our food."

A prayer so short
and childish,
but powerful
and beautiful.

Several people have asked me why
I still pray that very same prayer:

            "God is great,
              God is good,
               let us thank Him
                for our food."

A prayer so short
and childish,
but powerful
and beautiful.

The answer is, I can't give an answer,
I just know that:

            "God is great,
              God is good,
               let us thank Him
                for our food."

Amen.

Dig in.

We fall deeper and deeper, as if in a trance,
your love increases exponentially.
There is no expression to compare to your love.

You are the constant in the equation to life,
forever intersecting secret thoughts.
There is no expression to compare to your love.

The pleasant addition of you to my life's function,
seeing the symmetric feelings we have
There is no expression to compare to your love.

You and I have not one extraneous solution;
your range of affection is infinite.
There is no expression to compare to your love.

You are my denominator, my stability;
you take the inverse of all that is bad.
There is no expression to compare to your love.

When I attempt to evaluate your rationale,
I find your devotion can't be measured.
There is no expression to compare to your love.

death whispers to me
I feel his hands wrap around
all I know is gone

I'm quirky, I'm nerdy,
I'm short and I'm curvy,
I always feel a little chilly;
is that just me?

My voice always cracks,
my homework sometimes stacks,
I don't dot every i or cross every t;
is that just me?

I cry when I'm happy,
my clothes are a little shabby,
my bedroom isn't always clean;
is that just me?

My books are a bit battered,
my thoughts are scattered,
I sing off key;
is that just me?

I stutter when I talk,
there's always a limp in my walk,
I laugh so hard I can't breathe;
is that just me?

Sometimes I feel like I'm not enough,
but I have friends who show their love,
my life is like a happy dream;
is that just me?

I like to hold people's hands,
and cuddle in football stands,
sometimes I act a little silly;
is that just me?

We might be somewhat the same,
we may even share the same name,
but no one else, I guarantee,
can be anything just like me.

I will walk to the ends of the earth,
stretch my arms to the clouds,
dive to the depths of the ocean,
just to be with you.

I will run like never before,
see like I can't again,
yell like it will cannot end
because I know you're there.

I will soar like an eagle,
jump like a kangaroo,
sprint like a cheetah,
so I can get to you.

I will tear out my hair
rip my heart to shreds,
grind my bones into dust,
if ever you left me.

I will risk it all,
lock you up,
lay down my life,
to keep you save.

I will come if you call,
drop everything and leave,
do whatever you ask of me
if only to hear you say

*I love you.

The land of the free
and home of the brave
torn to pieces as
the free are murdered
and the brave incarcerated.

It was not
built on fear
but there is still fear
as those sent to protect
instead purge on the innocent.

Where I as a white
have a right to life
while my peers of color
fear for their life
because they're black.

Home of those
who live their lives
as if in Heaven
and those who can't breathe
because it feels like Hell.

Why should I
respect a country
that treats me with
respect, loyalty and peace
because I'm white?

Why do these people,
who with different colored skin
who are just like me
get treated with
disgust, injustice, and violence?

Am I not allowed
to be outraged?
Am I supposed to
assume that this is
the *American Dream?

people just keep pushing you
but you can't tell when enough is enough

I walk through the town with my face down;
I remember you.
The hearts were torn as you made news;
They remember you.
Your ribbons have been hung everywhere;
We remember you.
We caught the culprit, found his cell;
He remembers you.

Your locker, it stood next to mine;
I loved you.
This town was never scared of death;
They loved you.
The rock has yet been painted back;
We loved you.

I see your picture everywhere;
I miss you.
The little, rural town still sometimes cries;
They miss you.

I know that life is only temporary;
**I’ll see you soon.

I see you.
You can't notice me,
but I'm right here.
I'm watching you,
and I know your struggle.
But to tell the truth,
sometimes the most interesting character,
isn't the main.

You might not be the one,
sent to fight the battle.
You might not be the one,
who's tragedy is known.
But you are the one ,
who takes it on by choice.
And you are the one,
who deserves it all.

I wish I could tell you in  person,
but I realize that I can't.
For I am just a reader,
of the story of her life.

Even though it's hard to see,
you are just as important.
I can't tell you
how much you mean
to her
and me.

The bright sun shone through the blinds, breaking through the barriers of my closed eyelids.
Consciousness crept in, settling into various pockets of awareness.
My heart was beating and my blood was flowing and my lungs were taking in air.
I then understood I was to endure yet another hellish day.

I just want  you to know,
you always do this to me.
You make me feel lost,
you make me want to flee.

You tongue pierces my thoughts,
your eyes throw daggers into my soul.
You can't--no... wont stop yourself,
my heart still has strings for you to pull.

If I even thought to run from you,
you would always find a way.
I can't keep myself out of sight;
you find me no matter where I stay.

The only time you help me up,
is just to knock me down.
I can feel my heart break
as you watch me slowly drown.

I just want you to know,
you always do this to me.
I'll always be lost,
I can never flee.

As I
Tell the story
Of how I learned
To hate this very place

I walk a winding, ruined path.

Little keeps me going, yet it is so great,
only one thing that makes me continue.
Valiant foes still try to sway me,
even though they'll never win.

My heart extends to those who can't see,
yearning to show them what makes me smile.

Great and powerful.
Old and wise.
Dead, then brought back to life.

The beauty of this world is hard to see.
In order to find it, one must seek it,
so many choose to reject its existence.

The beauty of the world is more precious than gold.
To obtain it, something of equal value must be lost,
so many choose to be selfish.

The beauty of this world is something fragile.
It requires care and love and patience,
so many choose to just neglect it.

The beauty of this world is nearly dead.
There is no hope, no peace, no joy for it,
so many believe it was never there.

A heavy heart and broken smile is all I have to offer
My weary eyes and sensitive ears hide from the truth
The sweet taste of fear, the putrid scent of peace
The soft touch of hostility, the scandalous sound of grace
My body fails, my head hangs, my tears fall
But this feels much better than stinging words of affirmation
Than piercing mercy
Than murderous love that asphyxiates my cold, bruised, torn heart with no sense of satisfaction


A heavy heart and broken smile is all I have to offer
My weary eyes and sensitive ears hide from the truth
But you embrace me and tell me that I have nothing to fear because you will bring me peace of mind
You refuse my hostility and instead return my tormenting, slanderous words with this foreign concept of grace
You help me up, you lift my chin, you wipe my tears
And I begin to understand why people ask for the stinging words
The piercing mercy
The genuine love that revives my cold, bruised, torn heart with no sense of satisfaction

For you are not satisfied in me, but I in you.

I hope you smile when you see what I've become

I can't help but feel you won't ever love me.
And believe you me, it hurts more than you know.