I never had a choice
With what I love;
Like tasting ice-cream,
Sunny days,
A child's expectant face
At a parade;
Puppies and kittens are adored;
Closing sales at favorite stores.
They ignite a spark I can't extinquish,
A blazing warmth that's out of control,

Hello poetry is not happy
Hello poetry is not well
Hello poetry is not healthy
Hello poetry's gone to hell

I see these thoughts and sentiments echoed
In different forms upon my wall
I feel it too as I click and stumble
As I watch and wait for the wheel crawl

I've only been here a little while
I like the format, I like the style
The thoughts, the words,
The shares, the smiles
But why is loading
Such an arduous trail?

Hello poetry's not so bad
I've got plenty of patience
Hello poetry doesn't make me mad
It offers me contemplation

I click, I stumble
I wait, I mumble
"502, the gatekeepers in trouble..."

We know there is an island for lost toys;
A chest for lost treasure;
Pandora's box for one last hope;
The morning brings lost dreams;
And the heart fills with lost loves.
For socks, we have a dryer.

She was a girl
full of dreams,
affectionate, adoring,
easy to please,
a full life ahead,
so it seems....

Living and laughing, dancing a dream,
loving life, to its means.
sixteen and beautiful
full of passion and grace,
she hungered for the day
she could take her place.

Hopes and dreams
of a full life ahead,
she saw it coming
she never had any dread.

Living and laughing, dancing a dream
loving life, to its means.
daytime turned to darkness
joy to grief,
laughter to tears
with no passion or grace.

Beaten and wounded
youth taken away,
she longed for the day
she could escape this place.

Protecting the ones she loved
from the outcome of her fate,
she pushed it deep down inside
and hide it at any rate.

Day’s turned to weeks
weeks turned to years,
she kept smiling and living
but joy was replaced with fear.

Longing for the one
who would hold her tight,
turning her darkness
back into light.

Living and laughing, dancing a dream
Loving life to its means…
~
Copyright © All Rights Reserved ~
Stormy Angel/DMA
Registered: 2015-04-20 07:08:23 UTC

April is ****** Assault Awareness Month along with National Child Abuse Prevention Month the two go hand in hand. Any form of Child Abuse happens from infant age to adult age and at times carry’s beyond. If you see or feel a child is being abused in any form of any way call this National Number To Report It…
1-800-4-A-CHILD (1-800-422-4453) or visit the web site at, Childhelp National Child Abuse Hotline… http://www.childhelp.org/pages/hotline-home   Crisis Counselors Available 24/7.

Me and mine had our fill of HIS ****** royal Lip,
And racist, sexist philandering entitlement.

When setbacks happen,
I get on with life.
If I didn't make the cut,
I moved on;
Sometimes continuing along the same path,
With renewed determination;
Or, find a road less travelled.

                                       I crossed the parquet tiles,
                                       Before a thousand eyes;
                                       She gave a polite rejection,
                                       Her friend took great exception,
                                       Before taking my hand in her's.

There were numerous interviews,
When we two weren't the right fit.
I would move on,
Finally finding my hand and your glove were one.
There are no options, but to move on.

Then we got on.

Then she got on.

Then I got on...

Get on with your life

No problem.
Now, if I can only get along
With my life.

If you're an agricultural enthusiast,
Or gifted tower dwelling urbanite,
I know a priest who’ll bless your cockerel, favorite cow,
pig, sheep (with a predilection for lambs), tractor and
two-seater outhouse,
(I once saw a priest bless Farmer Paul’s load of manure).
He’ll lift a hand over
dog, cat, gerbil, cockatoo,
Foster children, adoptees, naturals and the unnatural.

They will bless people in love;
they will bless their love;
But not the union born from their love.

All love, he will say,
Is Divine.

God does not bless sin, said Papa.

Tsk, tsk... it's only a blessing, for Christ's sake.

Cult lickers are exclusive.
They're not black or brown,
But Greene with envy, marginalized at every turn.
They paid up for a briny Cruz, but came away infected.
They don't shut-up Gaetz, so the sheeple meekly escape.
They claim to be God-fearin', but they'll never cross the Jordan.
Like Graham crackers, they are dry, spineless wankers.
And if you've a limp Johnson, keep a stiff upper lip.