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Rylee W Nov 2011
Do not tell me that I am of a generation without religion,
As though its a bad thing.
Because I am as connected as you are, but my beliefs don't come from a book.
No, mine come from what this world tells me.
This world, the one who knows its wrong to stone someone,
But who won't be too mad if someone's ******.
Yes, this is my world. A world that knows we only have one to make, or to break.
And a world who knows that there's a risk for every chance you take,
But that the end of the day, you're only in trouble if you've lost yourself.
We're the generation that isn't sure how to feel.
No, no, we certainly know where out opinions lay,
Its the actual connection to our feelings that have gone away.
How would you feel if you were made guilty about every meal?
Whether its because your fat *** doesn't need it,
Or because you grew up knowing that those kids on TV,
they deserve it more than you do.
And that whether the two of you could hold a single conversation together doesn't matter,
Because all you can think about is that your world tells you that meal is the last thing you need,
While his need not remind him that its the last favour on our list of good deeds.
Not that he holds it against me or you,
After all, how would you decide between water, food, or a shoe?
I asked how you would feel, if for you this meal guilt was what you called real.
And you probably don't know, and neither do I,
Remember when I told you, we don't know how to feel?
Now don't think this means we don't understand feelings, oh no.
Those of us who listen with our eyes, you'd be shocked by what we know.
We know your eyes would be stuck on the men holding hands,
While ours burned to watch how he grabbed her's just a little too tightly.
You see, we see which is the boy, and which are the men.
And while we're not overseas, our war is here.
Because most of us are either one of those brave soldiers being called queer,
Or our home is where the enemy lies,
our beds made of fear,
while he opens another beer
and his fist draws near.
If it were you, tell me, where would Jesus steer?
If we gave him the wheel, could he keep this from being real?
Yes, our war is all around and it is right here.
And though I may not be sure how to feel,
I know what it means when I shed a tear
365 days, of this short year.
Rylee W Nov 2011
Turn me, spin me upside down.
Lift my soles right off this ground.
Intill in me some healthy fright,
before you turn me upside right.

You push me round in the best way,
The was that only best friends play.
Never a bruise but always a whine,
I'll smile while it hurts 'cause I know you're mine.

So pick me up and toss me 'round,
Even mid air our love is found.
I'll catch my breath when you put me down,
And then slip out of this wedding gown.
Rylee W Nov 2011
While it's true that there's always tomorrow,
What about today?

What if King had had his dream tomorrow?
Dreams are for today, don't the magnets say
"Tomorrow never comes"?

Yes, indeed they do.
So can we stop saying that tomorrow,
We'll live for today?

That tomorrow, the darkness will go away?
Listen to that voice, we needed the light yesterday.

So while it's true that there's always tomorrow,
Perhaps today, we could rid you of your sorrow.

And while we know why the caged bird sings,
Today is the day to spread your wings.
Rylee W Nov 2011
Laying there in the brightest of suns,
I hear them urging me to sleep.
So I curl and rest,
Letting the warmth soothe me,
Letting the light in all the way.

As I drift, they tell me that
Sleeping this way,
I'll wake up to angels.

And so I rest,
But I cannot sleep.
And yet, I open my eyes
And notice immediately the flutter
of a brown bird in the sky.

As he disappears, I see that he was
But an index
Leading my eyes upwards,
To those above him in the sky.

And I know they are birds,
But I know they are the angels too.

White, twinkling angel birds,
Being sure to fly high enough that I
have just as much a reason to call them birds,
As I do to call them angels.

For are they not one in the same?
Occupying the hight bright sky like that,
I can distinguish no difference.
Rylee W Nov 2011
You turn right to me,
look at me,
to say nothing with your lips,
but everything with your eyes.

You turn back to the window,
and I think of how I just want to be inside.
Not just in your intricate yet simple mind,
But in your whole being.

I long to dwell within you,
To experience every bit of kindness,
To feel all the love you give me.

Because that way, you and I will never have to worry if there's enough love between us.
Love will be all we leave room for.

— The End —