becoming a poet since I read more
than I write
becoming a human
since I feel more
of others
becoming a man I stand tall in peace
becoming another
I hope for

It looks bruised
recycled
re-used
but
don't be confused
by
how it looks,

the sky,

like all good books
should be studied over
brooded under
and
kept for future
reference.

Love's the glue
Which heals the heart
No matter how shattered
Torn appart
Your life's not over
Your doom's not sealed
Your body's broken
Your spirit's healed

Love's the glue
Love's the glue
Flows from His veins
For me and you
He was broken
He was shamed
That we'd be pardoned
Free from blame
You know it's righteous
You know it's true
If you're broken
Love's the glue

He's lost his home
He has no car
He takes the bus
From bar to bar
He's lost his wife
He's lost his friends
The bottle's bottom
Never ends
She's on chemo
Lost her hair
She's so gaunt
That people stare
She has no family
Lost her breast
But there are arms
Where she can rest...

[Chorus]

BRIDGE:
Bruised and battered
Whipped and flayed
He could have left
Before He paid
The final price
For me and you
Jesus heals...

*LOVE'S THE GLUE

He will leave you
when he's finished with you.
After he's done raging war
on your life.
He will be fine.
He will not know that
you sit in the shower
scrubbing all the places he touched
you
trying to wipe away his finger prints.
Until your skin can't take it anymore.
He will not know that every bruise
he left you
with every hit
every name that was called
is still healing
on the inside and out.
He will not know that you are picking
up all the pieces he left
and trying to put that back together.
He never cared for you.
He never will.

Yesterday
Have you dreamt
about me..., she asked
I said, "No...... Why?"
she replied, "you were in
my dream whole night.."
I said,
Yah!!
Now i know
why I couldn't able to
sleep the whole night..

I am beautiful
Inside and out
With the most enigmatic eyes
And a heart of gold
                                      How do you know?
I've been told

I am a mouse
I cannot opine
Because I have no opinions of my own
I can never be bold
                                      How do you know?
I've been told

I am a ******
A semi-psychotic person
Who is warm, one moment
And another, unpredictably cold
                                      How do you know?
I've been told

I am coy, too shy
Too straightforward
For this twisted world
I'm from an era too old
                                      How do you know?
I've been told

I am bold, too bold
In my sexuality
I am losing character
Of which, I need to get a hold
                                      How do you know?
I've been told

I am not a woman, or even human
No really, I'm an armchair
I am not who I perceive myself to be
My identity belongs to them, me - they mould
                                      How do you know?
Do I have to be told?