This morning
I saw the smallest flower
tucked deep inside
a group of much bigger flowers
it didn't belong there
it wasn't part of the group
it wasn't even the same kind of flower
but you know what?
they were all getting along just fine
maybe there's a lesson to be learned...

We all have a place
Where secrets are made
The ones we would rather hide

More often than not
God takes what we've got
And brings it into the light

Beyond the shadow of doubt
Your sin finds you out
No matter how hard you try

It's best to make
The paths you lay straight
Keeping God right by our side

when i'm not home
i call myself on the answer phone
so when my day is through
i'll have someone to listen to

in the minute that it gave
i explain away my day
right before the beep
erases all but part of me

When the words
do not come.
And you stare empty,
onto the pages that
tell tales far more colorful
than any songbird singing
its perfect tune.

Then speak out loud.
Words flow with such
fluidity and solidarity.
Pouring out of me with such
beauty that my fingers with
pen clenched could never muster.

Beautiful lyrics and words
and rhythms escape the confines
of this screen or the paper prisons
poets use to capture them.
The best works the truly inspiring
and jaw dropping, tear jerking
sentences and phrases will never
be seen to the world, when spoken
out loud.

Devilish blue eyes, frozen gaze.
Influencing me against my will,
Submitting into dropping defenses.
Overcome with an inability to escape,
I become bound by those piercing eyes.

Sapping once kinder thoughts,
Replaced by detached isolation.
Shuttering at the crack of the whip,
Blindly I walk to death.
Carved flesh ammunition against
You, weakness exposed.

Lacerations to the heart exchanged,
Milky fog clouds my oppressor.
Pieces held together by hatred,
One blow away from cracking.
Further into broken self.
All freedoms come at a cost.