Laughter and innocence are qualities that children posses. Imagination and wonder are seen through fresh eyes. A hundred questions they in an hour and 50 more before lunch. What a blessing it is to watch a child, what a wonder to have the gift of influence a young life.

I thought life was all Roses and video games, until the first baby came. Now I do not know where all of the money has gone and I can't sleep because my kid won't leave me alone. He cries to be changed 12 times a day, I go to work just to get away. My wife tells me to work harder, then dumps the kid off on me, as she puts in her ear plugs and tries to get some sleep, I spend 12 hours at work and the real job hasn't begun. I though being grown up was supposed to be some kind of fun. I liked it better when I was back in school. I wasn't really popular but compared to this, that was cool. Now I am begging the kid to go to sleep, I can't believe just how much a toddler can eat. Finally, I am at rest by 3 am, then my clock goes off at 5 and I am off again. I get out the door and leave the problem with my wife. In 12 hours I get to do it all again, what a way to get an education.

Glistening on the runway, turning for a profile, walking up and down in heels, this is just our style. Immersed in glamor, should I wear sequins or a backless dress? It can be quite confusing, I must confess! Hair styled in unbelievable ways, often defying gravity thanks to enough hair spray. Eyeliner and rouge to highlight the correct lines on a model's face. The lighting must be perfect, everything is in its place. The DJ gets the cue and the music gets to start. The curtain opens and everybody plays their part. Delighted fans take pictures and get lost for a while. They have to come here to see what near perfection can be achieved with a proper sense of fashion and style.

I have no bags to pack and my departure will not take that long. Some will miss me and some will be glad I am gone. I have completed many journeys, now I have one more trip to take. I have grown weary and I am glad to make this trip. So I will say one last goodbye to anyone who is of worth. I will take my place and quietly wait until I hear my name called. All that could be done, has been given to me. There is no more wondering or waiting, this is how it must be. So I say don't cry for me anymore. Just think happy thoughts and celebrate the life I have lived. This is my final wish, makes this your final gift. So I say goodbye once more and I release all my pain and sorrow. I go to sleep and never wake, for I am leaving tomorrow.

Run your hands over my body, make me scream. Bite me and pinch me in places that give me pain. Pull my hair and make me beg. Turn me over and give my *** a smack. Force me to bend down for you and tell you I like it. Use me for what ever turns you on. I am not a good girl, I want to be used. I am not your mothers choice, I have nothing to lose. I like it when you make me squeal and cause me a little pain. What I call having fun, others call depraved.

Suppose you live to be a hundred. Imagine that tomorrow cancer is cured. What would you do if we find life on another world? How would you live if you found out that you would die tomorrow? Life is full of questions that we never ask. What if we did?

Turning a phrase, and deflecting the answer. Some people are experts of deception, subversion. They use words in particular fashion to reinvent the meaning of a question. They will dance around the idea of truthfulness as if they were in a chorus line . With the agility of a gymnast and the precision of a fine watch, they craft their speech ever so carefully. Never will you get a direct answer, for they are the master puppeteers and will only present the truth they wish you to see.

Dressed in lace of the darkest black, with ruffles of red. A veil covers her face as her skirts trail over her shoes. She walks down cobble stone street, as her heels click. She looks forward and walks on in the direction of her purpose. Lips painted bright red shine through her veil. Her nature is her own affair, yet she gets attention where ever she goes. With skin of a light Olive hue, and dark mysterious eyes, she pierces the heart of anyone with her soft gentle gaze. A mystery wrapped in black lace. So goes the woman in the veil.

I look in the mirror and I no longer see myself, I see the man you want me to be. I look behind me and see the ghost of my mistakes and the man I was before you found me. I still struggle with my own demons and I often feel like I fail, but you are there beside me and you see the potential that I do not see in myself. So I will do my best to be patient and let you lead me. I will listen to advice that you give and let your love comfort me. In the end I will trust that I will become what you see that I can be.

Jewels twinkle above a blue sphere that is filled with all manner of people. We look at them and grasp for hope, sometimes wishing on one of them. We stare in wonder as they pierce the veil of the night sky. While below we are caught up in our problems that compared to the stars, are really petty and small. If we would take a moment and realize just how vast creation is, then perhaps we would return to peace and wonder and begin to reach for the heavens again.

Seeing someone as they are and accepting their differences. Offering a helping hand without seeking something in return. Being there when a call comes for help. Listening instead of offering advice, then buying a favorite to make a person feel better. Though it is not often easy and can sometimes be confusing, making a friend is often worth the time.

The sun is setting and doors are closing behind me. One road I have walked is worn out and I am tired. Soon the horizon will begin to fade behind me and I will look at another direction. Seeking a new path is never easy, but there comes a point when you know it is the right thing. The task you had to do are now in the hands of others and they will do just fine. So with a sense of new purpose, I see to see new places and start a new journey in my life.

When we have fallen, an unseen hand will pick us up. When we are unsure, a still small voice will reassure us. When we have lost hope, a guide will lead us in the right way. When we ask why, sometimes we must simply trust and go on. Though none knows all of the answers nor can anyone person know the whole mystery, in Gods mercy we will always find what we need.

When my humanity is forgotten and I don't seem to mind doing what feels good. When I lose my inhibitions and forget the teachings of wrong and right. When I forsake what is moral for what is wanted. When I give the devil his chance to play. When I become something wickedly playful, or uncaringly cruel. That is the darker side of me.

In a life well lived with not any particular care, I was brought to a sudden halt, by the girl with the Auburn hair. In one awkward moment, all of my intellect failed me. My heart lost it's rhythm and I could not speak. Time slowed to a crawl when I saw her green eyes and warm gentle smile. Something told me to stop and stare for a little while. All of the birds stopped singing and the sun would not move, the day my world stood still because of the love I felt for you.

Cities have turned into waste lands and children run barefoot through streets littered with needles and shell casings. Young people in inner cities are lucky to make it to twenty one. If drugs do not **** them, then a bullet or a corrupt system will find them in the morgue or prison. While in other worlds in a nation of supposed plenty, wealthy people sit on thrones of gold and count the pawns over which they have dominion. Giving no thought to the lives lost by corruption and inaction, they simply turn a blind eye to the cost in humanity as they look for new ways to enrich themselves.  All the while, a nation puts on a brave face to entice the world to look kindly on us, while we can't even end the misery of the poorest among us.

The chains that I have forged are ones that you cannot see. I created them through selfishness and neglect. In pursuit of gain instead of love and mercy, now I sit trapped inside of a prison of my own making . My sentence has no commutation and I dare say no parole. I carry the memories of my mistakes etched into the table of my soul. I long to open the prison door and let myself go free, but alas when I drove you away, you took the key and your love from me.

As summer closes and fall creeps in, many stop seeding the earth, but in a time of renewal, it is often best to break ground. Then replace that which was lost with new seeds and old things that are in decay. Together they will grow slowly, but will yield a bountiful harvest in every sense of the word.

Walking on a wire with unicorns, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Drinking the pink lemonade despite what others think. Looking at myself in the mirror and liking the reflection better than myself. Taking chances with total strangers in hopes that they are friends I haven't met yet. Stepping into the unknown in hopes of finding a hidden treasure. Questioning the reality in which I live, then doubling down on the fact that Elves and Fairies are real. Such is living on the edge of sanity.

When someone needs to cross the street and a stranger lends a hand, Gods help is there. When ever someone is inspired to take a moral stand, Gods help is there. When someone prays for another to help them find their way, Gods help is there. When it seems that the end is near and the answer comes right on time, Gods help is there. Through the most unlikely people and in the most peculiar ways, if we look really close, we will find Gods help was there.

I woke up one morning and found my nose was cold. I tried to but it, but my claws got in the way. I stood up and my tongue hung down and to one side. I Shook myself and wanted to scratch in odd places. I looked behind me and saw that I had a tail. I suddenly got the urge to chase it down. I went to the bathroom and hopped on the counter, I looked in the mirror and was horrified and confused. I saw that I was a dog and no longer a human, perhaps that is why the blue toilet water now looks so inviting.

Unsteadily I hold the rough edged blade, unbalanced in my hand. I look at my wrist from past scars and wonder if I can stand it. The cutting has stopped working, and I wonder should I go deeper this time. Will I be able to find the courage with in myself or will I need a bottle to help me get there. I wonder why I should stay around another day, I wonder does anyone even care?

The summer clothes are put away and warm sweaters and falling leaves are the order of the day. Bringing family home and making ready for winter is the usual plan. Knowing the names off all of the friends that you will be visiting and sending gifts to, is an essential to daily life. No matter what the time of year, it is always a time for caring and sharing. So celebrate all that you have and enjoy each day as if it were your last. Now is the time and tis the season for caring, family and friends.

Taught to hustle at an early age. Learned the code of silence and a gangsters ways. Making money as fast as I can. You got to have a gun to become a man. Hoping not to die before I reach seventeen. Trying to forget some of the things I have seen. Living my life by the hustlers code, giving nothing and taking what ever I want. Let others sacrifice for the state, getting what I want cannot wait. Learning hard lessons just to survive, having to grow up street wise.

Releasing all inhibitions and holding on to the unseen hand. Surrounding your with faith. Opening your mind to the word of God and his master plan. Taking time to talk to him, just like an old friend. Taking a walk with God is not always easy, to trust in that which you cannot see, but if you believe in his might and wisdom, his mercy and love will set you free.

Reaching down into a box, I pull out photos that are memories. I try to put them back inside of me. I weep until I am an empty shell and look for comfort but find little. My life is destroyed by your betrayal and all I am left with is the shattered shards of love. So I will pull together what I can find and paste together what I used to be. I will let you go slowly as I continue picking up pieces of what I have left of me.

She has eyes like a sunset, reflecting the end of the day. She is caring like a and generous. Thoughtful of others and a rudder that steers me in the right direction. Her love is a comfort and a refuge for me. Her wisdom is timeless and she is the peace that the world cannot give. Never being shaken, her faith in hope and tomorrow does not waver. I am not worthy of such kindness as she bestows upon me. I am sure that she is an angel and will one day be called to help another. Each night I wake to make sure she has not left me, for I am a better man when Heaven walks beside me.

I show the world the side of myself that I want them to see. I try to give the true meaning of what I believe. I speak of my philosophies to any who will listen, but do not try to force them on anyone. I give of myself charitably and work to constrain my prejudices and anger. I want others to see that I live what I profess to believe, even though I struggle with myself. So forgive me if I falter and fail some days, I have not reached perfection just yet. It is my hope that the positive parts of my life will influence others and help someone else live as I would like to .

A piece of hell's gate fell to the earth. Black as Satan's soul. Found by something other than human but not wholly a beast. Dipped in molten rock and hammered into a desired shape. Sharper than Obsidian and colder than the icy heart of the deep sea. Formed to cut and whither with fear those who oppose any who wield it. The dark blade is the master and  not the implement, as it drains the life out of whoever holds it. Stealing souls to do the devils work.

Pour a shower over me, let the Crimson flow. Let my skin be awash in its life giving essence, let the opened veins pour out. Release my inner beast, cast aside the bridle that restrains me. Open the door and let me play on a dark field. Let my skin become white like snow and glisten as the red droplets drip off of me. See the heat rise from me as I meet the bitter cold. The thirst takes me and cannot be quenched, now let the Crimson rivers flow.

Bravery is not a natural state. It is nature to preserve yourself. To stand up for something that is right, even though you know you can lose. To give up something of yourself for no reason other than you care. To keep going when all others have abandon you. To be willing to save another without thought of reward or self gain. These are the true faces of courage.

Tell me what you are in need of and I will pen down the words. Ask for something and I will find the feeling to give it life. If you are sad, I can make the parchment cry. If you are happy, I can make the word declare joy to you. If you are frustrated, I will craft a work to reflect your mood. What ever it is you desire, just tell me now and I will write the poem for you.

In a place between nowhere and somewhere, letters lie about scattered across a bland and colorless landscape. They drift in a few at a time, torn off from phrases that would have been and poems that should have been. No one really knows how the letters find there way here, they just kind of do. When a great idea is not penned down, then the words become fragmented and simply fall into the ethos sphere . They come to  the unnamed place for the letters cannot form words on their own.

An edge honed to a fine finish. A point as sharp as a spear. Not too well balanced, but fun to fling about. A faint pungent odor and a strong after effect. Inhaling and holding is the best way to take it in. Both can be useful, a sword for cutting things down and Mary Jane for taking the edge off, just remember not to mix the too, or you might cut off something you need and not realize it until it is too late.

A green eyed monster that will consume your soul. A thing that turns beauty into horrific obscenity. What a thing that can darken the doorstep of any happy home. Such that it hides in every persons soul. Always waiting for the slightest opportunity to rear it's ugly head. The terrible beast that makes people see red. Tearing apart friendships that were built over a lifetime. This wretched emotion should never see the light of day. Jealousy, the green eyed monster that lives in us all.

Speak to me and give me wisdom. Show me why you feel the way you do. Let me see things from your perspective, give me insight into what you feel. I know we may not completely agree, but perhaps we can find some common ground. Sit and talk with and help me to understand.

It was supposed to be a secret. I was told others wouldn't understand. I was told it was a special game that only special people could play. I was scared at first, but then I just went numb. I let it go on without feeling. Though I tried to deny myself, I would cry in my bed at night. I secretly didn't want to do it anymore. I tried to find a way to give up my secret, but I seemed to be ignored by everyone around me. It wasn't until I did something bad that someone found out and by then it was almost too late.

I write and the words are empty. I try to fill the page but the meaning is not there. It is as if I am repeating myself and redoing what has been done. The well of ideas has gone empty and the water of creativity will not flow from my soul to my pen. I can only mimic what I see and not truly put my emotions into the work. What can be done when the passion has faded and the words have become hollow?

Lush carpet of color in hues of Purple, Pink and White running along the edges of a field ready to harvest. Oh how you glisten in the days first light, covered in new morning dew. Your petals are soft as silk and your scent is gentle like a summer breeze. You are truly a flower of wonder and the mornings glory.

Delicate flower that floats on the pond. Spreading out your leaves to cover the still water. Opening to give a fragrance or fill the dark pool with your color. You add uniqueness to quiet places. Birds wade over you and fish jump around you as frogs sit upon you and croak in the cool of the evening. Your roots reach into the depths like fingers seeking to grasp at some lost treasure. Your simple beauty can be overlooked, but you are a special flower indeed.

If I could talk to an Oak, or speak to a mighty Red Wood, or perhaps climb a mountain and chat with a lonesome Pine, what might I learn from listening to them? Would I hear all of the gossip from every passing bird, or perhaps their desires for the world. The one thing I think I would ask and would really like to know, is what does a tree dream of? Does the Oak dream of seeing it's Acorns grow, does the Red Wood dream of a simpler time? Would the Pine dream of the far away places it can see but never go, what would be on their minds. Perhaps one would not dream alone, but as a whole forest it link. Oh to know the secret of what a tree would dream, that would be amazing indeed.

When the cold wind blows and the Whipper Whippoorwill stops its nightly song. I walk among the tall Cedars that are evergreen. I see the hues of Blue and Silver on the needles of the tall sentinels that stand along the road and line the banks of rivers and streams. They fill the valley with their scent and give haven to birds from the coming winter chill. Though their bark is rough, their heart is soft and fragrant. Sometimes I cry when one is cut down, but I do not mourn long, for I know it will be transformed. The tree will become a hope chest or the frame of a bed filled with childhood memories. So I walk on among old friends and feel a sense of peace. As I stand among the cedars of the valley where I live.

I walk through the house and I hear voices and laughter. I turn down the covers and your pillow is wrinkled. I look in the mirror and I see a glimpse of you. I cry into my hands and wonder how I could have been such a fool. I hear footsteps coming up behind me. I catch your scent on a gentle breeze. I spend long nights missing your embrace, I wonder why I didn't see. Now my bedroom is haunted with your memory. Your ghost haunts me and reminds me of my mistakes. The memory will forever haunt, it is perhaps more than I can take.

Though I walk and appear to be defenseless, I carry a breast plate and a shield. The things that protect me cannot be seen with mortal eyes, yet they are ever present. The righteousness of the lord and the shield of faith are upon me and through his spirit I am not afraid. The double edged sword of his word, will cut through the enemies lies and the truth will be made known. Though I walk before mighty armies, I am protected by the unseen armor that God has given me.

The sun begins to set low and the shadows of night fall earlier. The wind changes and the sea begins to become restless. The warmth of a season is replaced by a familiar chill and the evenings are more for warm fires than swimming. The plants are beginning to fade and leaves show their age, as they begin to take on hues of the rainbow. I put away my sandals and find more appropriate shoes, as I watch the lazy sunny days slip away. I settle in for the inevitable change that must come to all things and take my last look at the summers end.

Many teach a path to live and obtain life beyond what we know. Yet there is only one testimony that is of truth. No one else can profess death and life again. To have been killed and three days hence resurrected from the grave. The Christ is sometimes called a myth or a fantasy, but in the hearts of men, the truth is known. Though many may deny it, there is only one way, and that is through Jesus Alone.

Sitting on a sand bar watching the muddy water flow by, I look at the fishing cane growing on the opposite shore. I dig in the sand and find an arrow head, shiny as the day it was made. I look at the muddy bank and see smoke from a distant field. I close my eyes and I can hear the chants of the Cherokee. I look up the river and see a canoe coming down, the Creek in a hunting party are floating by. I sit on hallowed ground and hold the arrow head in my hand. I imagine where it has been and who made it. I can see the images clearly in my mind, just as if I were standing there in the hunting camp. A cold wind blows over me and I hear the water crash on some rocks. I return to the sand bar and feel a solemn peace as I watch the river flow by.

She wears her in many different styles and likes short dresses. She wears bright colors in clothing and makeup. She is full of sass and laughter. She likes to make a splash with her wit and her smile. She gets attention where ever she goes, but is never dull or boring. She offers a warm hand and support to any friend in need. She personifies the confidences that her parents taught her, all the while exuding *** appeal. She loves to wear heels as often as she can, she loves to know she was watched as she walks by. She will wink an blow you a kiss if you are luck. She will leave you speechless if you catch her eye.

Mirrors reflect my illusions of myself as I walk down my primrose path. I see reflections of things as I would like them to be. A grand design is formed in my mind and I see magnificent achievements. I want to step through the mirror into the reflection of the illusion. I find that it is better than my own reality. In many ways I hide my shortcomings with false perceptions in order to avoid admitting the truth to myself. So I continue walking in my hall of mirrors and shutting doors to truth, as I live in the land that is favorable to my own liking, A world created by illusions in my mind.

An old Gray headed man told me about his life. He spoke of sorrow and joy. He told me of good times and bad. He spoke of having nothing and having more than enough. A journey that was condensed into a few hours, covered eighty some odd years of memory. In the words of wisdom spoken from a weather worn traveler, there were sign post. Honesty was always his hallmark, keeping of your word was important. Hard work never killed anyone, it made you appreciative of the things you earned. Patients wasn't given it was learned, only the passing of time can teach you that. You don't have to be old and Gray to gain wisdom, just remember the lessons learned the hard way and you will be smart enough. Though he is long since gone on to his final reward, the path that he spoke of is still there before me. I just have to chose to heed his advice and walk it the way he did.