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HStories Dec 2010
Holy apparitions hang on chains of gold.
devoted whispering chime prayers so old
candle wax drips the weight of sins sold
Doubts are a pointed finger cloaked in my youth
that prevented sight to open up to truth
stuck between miracles seen by my eyes
confused by organized prejudices and lies
forced by the priest demanding replies
the blood of the savior on me that dries
so I listened to my devoted mother's sigh
adhere to promises that never die.
the long road that leads to my salvation
is guided through by a messiah's revelation
that in my older years have become my rock
breaking away chains,he's a key to the lock
hidden in my past he was always there
above the sacred heart he gently stares
wounded hands touch my scars that hide
taking out thorns in my hearts side
caressing my prayers with his father's light
taking up the battle in a heavenly fight
hushing fears,all nightmares cease
he is forgiveness made flesh, my prince of peace.
copyright oct2003  by Heather Ruiz
HStories Oct 2010
I know the story just like authors before me said
life played out in chapters like books I've read
I can show the ink in my veins that I've bled
to honor a story,and lost words dead
some say I should have been a man instead

walked through enough strife to keep you up at night
I've lived to talk another day,without losing a fight
held in tears,knowing it will only blurry the sight
been able to still get a grip on this life I've led
some say i should have been a man instead

like the old soul singers with the blue of song
i can pour out the intent with a note so long
like my voice in the world, where it belongs.
my rifts are hidden deep in the message i send
some say i should have been a man instead

Hauling struggles on my shoulders like a shadow
carrying it around with me where ever i go
just so others look at me,and already know
exactly what i bear,allowing wounds to show
i want others to see the injustice I've been fed
they all say i should have been a man instead

True i have the strength of biblical armies
the height f heaven,as wide as the sea
and you think only a man is capable of such capacity
well......i am a woman...EXACTLY what i should be.
copyright oct2008 By Heather Ruiz
HStories Oct 2010
I'm tellin you it's been a long time comin
this lost time I'm now strugglin.
Encased behind surrounding barred walls,
loud voices hollerin down halls.
Prayers are my nightly calls.
When I try to find sleep, but stall,
because all my mistakes produce,
a glimpse of a wasted youth,
that I had been when I had used.
Shot-up,lonely,scared,and bruised.
Everyday is time I now lose.
To be with those I have wronged,
doing time with me all along.
Glancin at the clock,where has all our time gone?
Gone to the crowded street corners unlit,
a thousand ciggerattes against my lip.
Disgusting habits that I never quit.
Liquor poured inside, a million sips.
Gone in the pockets of a dealing man,
Addiction back by popular demand.
In the pipe held by a shaking hand,
commanding me time and time again.
Inside the bullet wound on skin,
beginning with need, ending in sin.
Sleepless nights for the next of kin.
Lost time piled like dirt on feet,
right along with the fights I couldn't beat.
Lord give me an answer that's sweet.
Why I'm on this unending street?
The angel's watched while the devil's played.
I'm suffering for old debts unpaid.
Betrayed by my long gone friends,
never strong enough i the end.
Confiding against black gravestones,
one response I love you's all alone.
Lord, take this pain that I now own,
what's the lesson that you have shown?
To struggle with this heavy regret,
hidin scars that won't let me forget.
All I want back is time I've spent.
So forgiveness comes by his own will,
guess that's why I'm breathin still...
Letting my denial in for the ****.
Lord, I know I've followed wrong roads,
my time is up,I'll give what i owe.
I'll pay back for all i stole.
Got a young surface, but inside I'm old.
No warmth for my soul that's cold.
But Lord please spare my heart
I need this so memories don't fall apart.
Of Tia's victory prayers, so proud
and how Grandpa's voice is strong and proud.
My sisters heartbeat, a perfect sound.
How I can't let my brother's down.
To keep the image of my father's face,
and the security that is my mother's embrace.
Lord, so I don't forget sweat,blood and tears shed,
by my families life, a heritage bled.
My first love at a young age dead.
all the childhood prayers read.
My sweet Lord, did you hear what I said?
I won't give up on this last chance,
my worship hands a battle stance.
So I'll take a glance at my gone past,
but I promise this stare won't last.
Now broken wings are out of the cast
Lord, I know in your mercy I'll find
a way to get back all my lost time....
copyright august 2003  By Heather Ruiz (HStories)

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