Tell me:
Would you smile if it was tax deductible?
If your mother saw you kicking that child would you stop?
Or is love just an accessory you adopt for holier days...

Since when is justice to be served by 'that other guy',
pain to be experienced by those inferior to you;
If kindness were a song would you have the voice to sing it?
Or are the only words your chords are capable are of: if, should have, would have,
all more elaborate phrases for the word 'coward'.

Opportunity was not presented to you so like an unwanted gift so you could get a cash return-
it was to be drained of its potential and scattered to the world in a prism of hope.
But those who have the most access lack the most vision,
a single mother in the street knows her need but the 'big man'? Can't even see the street.
A voice that is more expensive does not merit more importance,
because you deserve anything and have been left wanting,
does not allow for neglect.

Crash! Smack! Ow!
The chair broke.
Yeow! Galump! Swoosh!
A cat runs away with glue on its tail.
Vroom! Crunch! Grrr...
Dad's motorcycle met its end.
Clip! Clip! Done.
The raspberry patch is no more.
Pop! Wheee! Plop!
A jar of peaches sits on mom's head.
Ahhhh!!!!
She's gonna get us! We're dead!
Two children's little legs dash over the threshold.
HE He he he...

Gurgle, growl, burp,
Tummies are empty.
Whimper, pout, please!
Hush.
We're hungry, we'll clean, we're sorry.
Sigh, reach, hug,
Love.

Thoughts are a potency that stimulate action; the source of human intellect and the birth of understanding.
Trapped, they become our demons, yet actualized they live through us.
Pen to paper, thought to word,
These things change our world.

It's the cry no one hears that screams the loudest.
Alone, a street corner for company, hear cries of desperation.
Rags grip to trembling flesh for dear life, torn by the wind, shredding against the gale.
Salvation passes by, person by person,
tantalizing hope.
They don't know the strength it takes to fight, to stay alive
just one more night.

You. Are. Not. Alone.
You are not an island,
other lands lay on your shores.

What you do matters,
it makes a difference.
Even a black hole swallows its surroundings.
Misery does not linger in solitude,
it spreads like a poison,
veins deep,
fatal.

Be more than that,
be a contagious smile.
Someone who makes the time we spend,
worthwhile.

Go on,
imagine the wind.
I wonder if you can.
Carrying with it everywhere it has been,
the voices it has heard and pain endured.
We call it beautiful,
but we do not see it.
It is a message, a whisper from our past;
guidance for our future.
Our most blissful moments-
when we are swept of our feet.

I took the road less traveled
and took a turn for the worst,

tried to fill bigger shoes
to find my own footprints.

What happened to that girl I knew?

There it is, past tense.
As if her journey is over before it's begun.

I pray you find your way little girl.

I'm not angel enough to fight your demons, too weak to heal your scars.
Pain's footsteps have tread carelessly amidst your heart, earthquakes ripping through your foundation, its breath leaving fiery ruin.
I can't imagine the strength it took to endure what it has done, but I know the love I have for you,
that love in past has always won.
So let my arms be your protection, my heart guide you from all wrong.
All I am is yours to keep,
and to keep you forever strong.

Hate is a coward's defense to the harshness of our world.
It is a confident, empowering absolute that provides immediate closure.

Straining to love the ambiguous and the ridiculed is to muddle through understanding...
The beauty in love is that it's cumbersome, full of its own trials and poison; yet we sacrifice- ourselves, our illusion of 'purity'.
You cannot understand if you feel you are owed anything.

Love: the boundless, cannot be earned- will never be deserved.
And yet, it is.

Straining against our boundaries, wrestling with the bonds of authority as in our youth.
"I do this to rebel!" You know not what you fight.
"Independence is my right!" Also your curse.
"I deserve my freedom!" Freedom costs.
We've fought for years for these glorified unknowns,
now faced with our Opportunity we cower,
retreating to the familiar; capsized by those burdens to which we were first exposed.