I read today, within the press
About a 7 year-old girl
Her name was Sailor Gutzler, and
She kept on walking, though faced hell.

She'd lost her Mum. She'd lost her Dad.
Her Sister and her Cousin too.
She, the one fated to live
Despite the horror She'd been through.

Their small plane crashed within the woods
She was so well and truly lost.
Bleeding. Crying. Total pain.
She made her way through bark and frost.

She'd walked a mile to find a house
Broken fist and Bleeding knees,
Her shoes were gone, Her feet were cold
Without no-one there but tall, hard trees.

I had to raise her name so that
Our thoughts and prayers can reach her side
I'd have been too weak and quit.
She's 7 and made it stride by stride

ants lean left more than right
it's true, it must be

i read it in Fox News

especially the red ones
that wear berets
like Che

the impertinent invertebrate
arsonist fire ants

who tend to get stepped on
by the man
who exterminates

according to anthropologists.

:)

what a time to be alive

you see me licking my wounds
& I see you creating new ones

what incredible timing

drunk on company, on beer
and the "holiday cheer"

but that's not what it sounds like

we all got pretty ******,
it's a surprise I didn't *****

the room kept spinning

it was the holidays, though
and there was certainly cheer

my ears were ringing

oddly enough though, I
accepted it as a blessing

I can't fight against time

time is beautiful in the way it indiscriminately destroys

I'm not one to resist beauty

it's so chaotic and it makes
absolutely no sense at all

but it takes you places

I couldn't find the sea and
beauty led me there

even though life is loss

you get used to it and those
terrible beautiful things

can fill the cracks in your being
if you let them seep through you