The strands of smoke that pour from her lips
Blend with an atmosphere dimly lit;
The sight of the scene would make a man bewitched,
For it were as if her beauty were some sort of trick.

Her aura of importance, vanity, and fashion
Are comparable to an openly adored fascism.

She regards the rules as much as possible
To make herself look as good as a model.

Spending hours at a time to look her best,
She relieves the stress with cigarettes.
There's hope that they will make her forget
All of the mistakes and all of the regrets.

Though most of her relationships were abusive
None of them yet have brought her story to conclusion
Now she's hiding all of her problems as if they're delusions
Behind smoke and mirrors--the perfect illusion.

I made it my daily habit
To paint on a face of "I can do this."
No one knew of the bleeding stripes
On my back or heard my silent cries.
They only saw the laughter
On my lips that never reached my eyes.
They only heard the embellished tales
I spun to hide the shake in my voice
When I tried to avoid
Talking about my real life.
Covered up and hidden away
Were all my bruises and wounds.
No wonder no one believed me
When I wiped the mask off my face,
When I stopped spinning yarns,
And uncovered my back and lifted my eye,
And laid bare my soul for them to see.
They thought it another trick,
A story for them to dismiss,
Instead of the plea for help and mercy
I had finally drummed up the courage to make.
It is fear that drove me to hide.
Fear and my most stubborn pride.
I wanted to be whole more than anything else.
But the truth is that I'm broken and in need of help.

Now, though, there's none who believe
The words of truth from my mouth
For I've spent far too long hiding behind
The words of an embellished life.

I met a guy,
And when he looks at me
I know he sees
Him and me
Down the road
When we're old
Sitting' on that back porch
Drinkin' sweet tea
Or maybe whiskey;
Him and me
Down the road
Livin' in an airstream
Like gypsies
Blown from place to place
Never stayin' settled too long;
Him and me
Down the road
Hand in hand
Watchin' our
Sons become fathers,
Daughters become mothers,
But always our children
No matter how old they get;
Him and me
Down the road
Side by side
Six feet under
With his epitaph that reads
"Her and me forever."
And mine that reads
"What he said."

Blink your eyes once.

An innocent child
killed just like that.

Blink your eyes twice.

While walking through the wrong neighborhood

being black.

How far has the doctrine of Dr. King
come for that?

Mr. Cooke sang to us a change
was gon come..
and he ain't even here to write the lyrics to finish the song unsung!

I wonder if he is watching from the sky,
and knows we are all afraid to die.

It's been a long time coming,
he said.

And here we still wait
to be dead.

And in the midst of our waiting,
we've decided to
**** each other instead.



I know change is a long time coming

Einstein refined
Space and time.
Failed to define
Divine Design.
Almost divined
A superior outline:
But the subtleties
Were too sublime.