Two years ago I wrote myself a letter.
Inside of it I told myself to not give up.
To not give up on writing, something I
believed I was good at, which is rare.
Within those years, I stopped believing.
I stopped being creative.
I made no more time for it.
That's when I realize that's how it is to grow up.
You just start to lose that spark, that passion.
But reading that letter made me reach for a pen and paper.

POEM 10

I remember walking the Trail of Tears
wrapped in diseased laced blankets
under small pox filled nights.
I witnessed the first ‘Holocaust’
of middle passage genocide
and untold body count
of African lives.
All of this is the moral fabric
of today’s American values.

I saw a sticker the other day,
as I walked my small town
and it has given me some hope.
“Stop Thinking Like Americans
Start Thinking About Humanity.”
It was posted on a street light,
right there on Main Street.

And I thought,
if this view point can be found here
in Small town USA,
think of what might happen
if it were also found
in all the big cities!?

Maybe we still can find our humanity.

Aztec Warrior 6.13.15

Silence can speak louder than words.
Silence can be louder than screams.
Sometimes silence isn't silent at all,
but the complete opposite.

The modest Rose puts forth a thorn:
The humble Sheep. a threatning horn:
While the Lily white, shall in Love delight,
Nor a thorn nor a threat stain her beauty bright