My Personality seems to be "too nice"
when other's attack
and you cannot seem to lift a fist
A conflict lasts too long
Another Sacrifice.
You are forced to settle for less
Because the other friend wants more.
If you fail to win this game
Than it is you that loses to their score.
Their beliefs are fact.
Yours are "insanity."
"you need to do better"
even though you've tried "too hard"
and even showed  fair tact.
How can this road trip to the Devil's Land
Benefit both
In order to avoid a separation  or collision
and keep what's important intact?

I was recruited to fight in a war
Not overseas
However massive and ******
It was a war on our own land.
Dark people forcing darkness on the inhabitants
Now the clash has come
from those sick of the tolerance of violence
he sided with those true
and became a worthy combatant.
A shield of truth and a gun of brighter ways
Holds the guilty in the scope
as truth fires the killing shot
The reward in which they have earned
from crimes against humanity
on these conflicted streets...
Justice is what they have gotten.

He rose out of the ashes of corruption
He pledged to protect our beautiful nation
Befriend by many leaders
Trump proved himself as those around him backstabbed
a bright person to bring light
upon a clash of crocked ideals
Never selecting a "paid" vocation.
He uses his heart and pride of country as payment
as he smiles as those who fear and run from the truth
their feet run on the pavement
As they try to save what little they have left
in a dark legacy
Say what you want
they can never replace a true and noble warrior
Who took the oath of leadership
Over the strongest Nation in the world
The flag waves high in pride
as he steps on the White House Lawn
In earned light and proud stride.
I support him.
Trump.
Our "Cheif of Nations In Command"
of honest power and dignity
I shower him with respect and praise
as he earns a rose, the regal flower.
As he makes a path, for all, a brighter day.

He has endured a chronic pain
Both in his heart and in his worn-out soul
At least his heart beats
There is air in his lungs
He yearns to be more
Than a mannequin
wearing the uniform of the
"underprivileged American."
He might have handicaps
That people notice more than his soul
"To help the world and invent newer items of luxury and of life's ease"
Are the successes that he so desperately wants
If only the investors and people around him could see
Placing stock into a brilliant, but, limited soul
can bring them new collections of creation
to enjoy their own life and
make it through everyday tasks
with ease.

Wanted silent like the dead
Never allowed the freedom to shine
The world cannot see this "zoo animal"
who is locked away....tears are the only objects to shine.
Invites happen when money can pay for a temporary
exit from the padlock paid to become unlocked
He gets a taste of the world
of freedom
As the people around him grow bored and lustful for more silver
His soul is returned to the cage
Until the next pay-check
or interest to play
with the tortured soul
who has limited ways
In which to escape this ritual
of being owned like a slave
He tries to break free
as help never reaches him
He is not the "political" definition
for the charities to choose him
On a selfish whim

He sits in an empty room
An old soul that people simply don’t want.
Discarded and left to barely survive
His heart withers as he tries to prevent it
from stopping
as he has failed to thrive.
Money seems to be the lust that brings people near
The lack of it keeps him isolated, hungry, and
keeps the Grim Reaper’s vision
to take your soul, soon, in your mirror.
His worth was measured by greedy people
Claiming to care
They were but a service
Whom you had paid to be there.
As tears fall in the silent hours
Memories of your defeats
Echoes of a heart-palpitating
As the next day..he dreads.. and waking to it
Hesitating.
What is the meaning of himself?
What is his true worth?
Peter Pan Advice is all he hears
Laughing...he nods to “agree to disagree”
Always being the compromise……
He fades further away
As people fail to treat him like he toils
harder to respect
or see his true self
His life is like a dusty antique
In a shop…..dusty...gathering cobwebs
on life’s shelf.