The preacher said
he was better
than the taxi-driver
because he showed
people, with all his words,
the way to Heaven

The taxi-driver said:
*"You might show them
the way to Heaven
but I show them the way
to God -
for everytime I start to drive
passengers start to pray
and they pray all the way
And I don't even have to say a word"

To be good,
to be caring,
to be kind,
to be loving -

I try.

To be gentle,
to be sympathetic,
to be humble,
to be energetic-

I try.

To be smart,
to be helpful,
to be present,
to be hopeful-

I try.

To be fun,
to respect,
to be happy,
to be perfect-

I try.


I try.


*I fail.

A real hero is not someone
who is stronger than a lion
or tougher than a mountain

He is not one who is fearless of nothing
The one who fights for the glory of himself or the throne

He is not the most handsome of all
or the cleverest, or smartest

That is not a real hero

A hero doesn't always get the beautiful maiden or the treasure
He learns from his mistakes, but never gives up trying
He has flaws, but never lets them slow him down
He isn't the strongest, or maybe the prettiest,
but it's what's inside of his heart
that wins the battle

He will be scared of what's to come
But when he fights, he fights for us

It won't matter in the end
Who is the strongest
or the toughest
the bravest
smartest
prettiest

A true hero
is a person
just like you, and I

Most people can't see
within the walls of one girl
They could easily find
the mask of dust and gloss
and the smile they believed
was real
They could easily find the
sticker of happiness
plastered across her eyes
like a bandage to the world
And the reduced puffiness around her eyes
the coal like a dark seal from tear streaks
and pain

But not me

I could see the hurt that lay beyond the lies
the everlasting broken mirror behind her face
The tremble in her lip when someone castes a glance at her,
marveling her fake beauty

I could see the way she pushed the plate of food across the table,
acting though she already had much, when she had none
Her eyes changed from a swirl of blue and green, to a dark setting
of brown and black

But I remember the way it use to be before
A twinkling laughter or joy
not given or strained
A spark in her mind that glowed through
the wondering colors of her eyes
And the perfect smile she use to wear
The one not so blistering white and forced
But the one with a meaning, with a purpose for show

Before all this plastic and smudge
All the tortures of today, she was truth.
Now, all are left are lies and a hollow case of herself

And could we really blame her?

They were photo-shopped
Every inch of fat cropped
Cropped till there was nothing but bones
Cropped till society labelled them as beautiful
Cropped till they had boys falling at their feet
Cropped till they
no longer
needed
to be
cropped.

They had starved themselves
They were 'fat free'
They were
hollow
and

They were
empty.

I never said you looked pretty
I never said you looked nice
You never looked good
You never looked beautiful

You looked like art


And art is suppose to make you feel.